


Whispers from the Past

by HarmonyB



Series: Serpentine Series [2]
Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Cross-Posted on Wattpad, Drinking, F/M, FanFiction.Net, Non-Explicit Sex, Sexual Harassment, movie!verse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-25
Updated: 2016-07-18
Packaged: 2018-01-20 17:44:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 47
Words: 145,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1519580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HarmonyB/pseuds/HarmonyB
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[Book Two in the Serpentine Series] On the run from the Ministry, Hermione desperately seeks out help despite being named a traitor throughout the Wizarding World for helping Voldemort. All the while, she tries to avoid the fate of her Serpentine charm, but is that possible?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

A broad shouldered man with dark hair strode between the trees on a dirt path. Over his shoulders he carried a heavy load of goods, prepared and ready to be sold. The man breathed in the freshness of the damp earth while turning his dark eyes upward to the rising sun that turned the leaves of the trees fluorescent green. The day had just begun, and he needed to hurry to Shell cottage before Mrs. Fleur Weasley started cooking.  _That pretty miss will be wanting her goods for breakfast,_ he thought, imagining the part-veela blushing with joy at seeing his arrival. When the Weasley couple had first moved to the cottage on the shore he had readily agreed to take trading goods to them to save them the trip to town. Besides receiving a heavy purse, one of his loves in life, he always received a small kiss on the cheek from the sweet Fleur in thanks. That was  _almost_  as good as a pocket full of galleons. But with all the fuss of You-Know-Who's escape from Hogwarts last night, Bill Weasley will most likely be gone with the Ministry leaving Miss Fleur all alone. A wicked smile crept on his lips at the thought.

The dark-haired man could hear the roar of the waves become more prominent as he approached the break in the trees. He soaked in the salty air while the sun rose over the horizon. Just ahead of him was Shell cottage, resting like a sand castle next to the open sea.

But instead of coming across the usually peaceful atmosphere of the cottage, he was met with screams.

Standing fifty yards from the little house, he saw quick shadows moving in the windows. For a moment he thought Bill and Fleur Weasley were having an argument.  _Strange_ , the man thought,  _they seemed like such a nice couple_. But then he heard yelling from a masculine voice, and the voice sounded nothing like Bill.

The hairs on the back of his neck bristled. His mind raced at the possibility that Fleur Weasley was being attacked this very moment, and his instincts told him to shoot down the grassy hill to the cottage to save her. But his legs didn't move. Maybe he should hurry back to town and bring back help. The thoughts spurring through his mind ceased when flashes of wand lights lit up from inside the cottage. And then everything fell silent.

_Gargoyles, could Fleur be dead_? After a tense moment, he saw movement again within the cottage. He felt for his wand up his sleeve in case he needed to take action when the attacker appeared. He held his breath, dark eyes glaring at the entrance to Shell cottage, waiting. He nearly squealed and fell back when the door flew open and a young woman sprinted out. He drunk in the sight of her: black clothes, unruly dark blonde hair, barefoot, and with a small sac thrown over her shoulders. He saw a quick glimpse of the young woman's face while she sprinted to the concealment of the forest. He would never forget that expression on her face from that one glance: it wasn't fear, like he would have expected, but deep sadness, as though she discovered she was the reason the world would end. As she disappeared behind the trees in the forest, he was surprised to feel he had seen her face before—not like he had met her, but perhaps he had seen a picture of her.

The man looked back to the cottage hoping to catch another sign of movement. While his attention was on the girl he hadn't noticed the tall man. He stood in the doorway of the cottage, his eyes looking after the girl.

The air left his lungs in a rush and his eyes bulged in fear. He stumbled backwards and dove behind a tree, fumbling for his wand. He swore under his breath.  _You-Know-Who_ , he screamed in his mind,  _here_! Very slowly, inch by inch, he moved his head out from behind the tree, his eyes searching frantically for the World's most deadly wizard. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was still standing at the entrance to Shell cottage; he, too, was barefoot, with his black shirt unbuttoned and his pants in a mess of wrinkles. He had never seen You-Know-Who in person, but right away he noticed something was wrong with the dark wizard. His piercing blue eyes that stared after the girl seemed out of focus. His pale hands grasped the doorframe, as though to keep himself from toppling over.

His heart pounded in his ears as—for the very first time ever—he feared for his life. He didn't want to think Fleur had been in the cottage when You-Know-Who arrived, that could mean only one thing…But why was the Dark Lord  _here_?

Then it clicked in his mind why he'd found the young woman familiar: her face was posted on the "Wanted" boards at the entrance to town. Her picture was posted only this morning, and he had just glanced at it on his way out to Shell cottage.

He swore again under his breath. He had to warn everyone. The girl was rumored to as wanted as You-Know-Who by the Ministry, with quite a large reward for her capture. The man thought a moment, ideas popping into his mind.  _She couldn't have gone too far away now_ , he thought as his mind whirred into action. The Ministry would sure get a kick out of that: a small-town trader brings down the world's most wanted criminal. His stomach fluttered at the thought. He could do it. Oh, and what he would do with all that money; he could finally get a girl like Fleur to fall for him.

But the girl will be hard to get with You-Know-Who guarding her like the poster warned she would be.

He focused back on the cottage, but the Dark Lord was no longer standing at the entrance. He began to panic and looked over his shoulder to make sure You-Know-Who wasn't suddenly standing behind him. Then he spotted a shadow moving in one of the windows of the cottage, and he let go of his breath. He slowly stood off the damp earth with quivering legs. With the tree still shielding him, he stepped away from the cottage into the shadows of the trees. When he was absolutely sure it would be impossible for You-Know-Who to see him, he spun around and sprinted away. He ran all the way back to town to sound the alarm.


	2. Chapter 2

Two Weeks Later…

In an unassuming little inn off the coast of Britain, a young woman sat in a booth grasping a newspaper in her hands. Harmony Hangleton hunched over the table with the hood of her cloak shadowing her face. She stared in mute horror as she read the front page of the  _Daily Prophet_.

**_Dark Lord Goes Loony_ **

_At 2:15 PM yesterday, approximately two weeks since the brutal attack on Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, You-Know-Who was found wandering near Herrington, a small wizard town off the west coast. His surprising appearance caused much havoc on the small town that had been alarmed of his whereabouts by an insider earlier that day. Lives were expected to be lost, but the Dark Lord seemed to be quite unlike himself. "Thought I was gonna soil my shorts at the sight of him," said one of the small town inhabitants who had witnessed You-Know-Who's arrival, "but he just walked around, kind of dumbly. He mumbled a lot and asked people where he was and such." The Dark Lord was described wearing only black pants and a loose shirt, covered in dirt as though he had been wandering for days. "I say he's lost his mind," comments one of the Aurors who had arrived shortly after being alarmed at the Ministry. "He probably went mad after he killed all of those people at Hogwarts School." The Auror, along with many others, quickly transported the now seemingly harmless You-Know-Who to the Ministry where he was held overnight for interrogation. Though with basic abilities still intact, such as speaking, the most dangerous wizard in the world seemed to have no idea who or where he was. After must deliberation You-Know-Who was transported from the Ministry—not to Azkaban prison, but to Menkar, our wizard asylum for the criminally insane. "We have to keep him locked up even though he seems harmless, just in case he snaps out of it," states the Director of Ministry Police, who was one of the attendees at the Dark Lord's hearing. "But quite a number of judges found it 'unfair' to send the dark wizard to Azkaban when he had no recollection of any of his crimes." The Dark Lord's fate is still yet to be decided by Ministry court. This very moment our wizarding world judges are deciding whether to execute a now innocent criminal. Until then, You-Know-Who pays lifetime in Menkar insane asylum while Harmony Hangleton—also known as Hermione Granger—and the rest of his devotees remain very much as large._

_-Send questions and comments by owl to K. Bronchus_

Harmony felt her heart stop at the sight of her name. She read on about the price on her head, which was triple the amount compared to other Death Eaters listed. She grazed the word "executed" with her thumb thoughtfully, her mind zeroing in on it. She couldn't stop her thoughts from screaming at her, "It's all your fault!" She took his memories away and he might die for it.

Her mind went back to the moment it happened: His cold blue eyes drifted over her one last time, almost longingly, but then he stared her down like prey and jumped at her and…flashing lights, then he crumpled to the ground like a corpse.

Beneath the title of the front page was posted a large picture of Lord Voldemort before he was moved to Menkar asylum. With an Auror grasping each arm, he blinked up at her. His face was void of any emotion—except his eyes, they were wide with wonder and maybe fear. Harmony had never seen Voldemort look that way before. His face had always been stuck in a dark scowl when she spent her time with him.  _Except_ …Harmony remembered the morning after they escaped from Hogwarts, when he watched the sun rise for the first time in a long time; he was calm, content, almost happy.

She missed that.

Her name caught her eye in an excerpt in one of the side columns. "Harmony Hangleton currently made Most Wanted by Ministry. Find out more on A5." She quickly turned to page five. Her jaw dropped at the headline.

_**Potter's Friend Betrays All** _

Harmony wanted to squeal "No!" She was too horrified to continue reading, but was unable to bear the suspense.

_Seventeen-year-old Hermione Granger, mostly known as Harmony Hangleton, is the youngest known Death Eater to date. But after interviewing witnesses from the Battle of Hogwarts, we were surprised to find she wasn't always that way. Quite the opposite, in fact. The young teen was famous at Hogwarts for being one of the most successful students in the school…and for being Harry Potter's best friend. Remembered as being light-hearted, witty, and kind, did Miss Granger always harbor this dark secret from her best friend? Harry Potter refused to comment on the subject, but another acquaintance, Ron Weasley, was eager to reply. "Of course none of us saw it coming. She had gone missing earlier this year and we worried about her, but never in out wonkiest dreams did we imagine she was with [You-Know-Who]…"_

_If you don't already know, Granger was seen with the Dark Lord at the Battle of Hogwarts. While Aurors attempted to stop him, Granger fought multiple Ministry officials and Apparated You-Know-Who off Hogwarts grounds. Because of the Dark Lord's current incarceration, Granger has become a priority on the Ministry's Wanted list of criminals. Not only is she the reason our wizarding world is still in danger, but also upon further research, it turns out Granger may pose more of a problem than expected. Several Death Eaters had been captured at the Battle of Hogwarts, and they have been subjected to intense interrogation leading to the revelation that Granger not only is a follower of the Dark Lord, but also possesses a unique Death Eater mark called a Serpentine charm. Our Ministry interrogators are not entirely informed on the importance of this charm, but it is understood she is the only follower of You-Know-Who_ _ever_ _to possess such a charm. If you or someone you know has a valid explanation for the Serpentine charm, kindly contact the Ministry and the Daily Prophet straight away. In the meantime, keep on high alert for this young woman. She is considered highly dangerous._

_-Written by L. Artemis_

Harmony gripped the newspaper so hard it nearly shredded in her hands. She wanted nothing more than hunt this L. Artemis down and shake them by the shoulders until their head toppled off.  _Betrayer. Dangerous._ Harmony trembled. How in the world did she get here? Who in the world could she blame? Dumbledore? Voldemort? Herself? What was she  _doing_?

Harmony risked a glance up from the newspaper and looked around the inn. She was actually  _hiding_  in a  _corner_  while Voldemort waited to be executed or not, and her best friends still thought of her as their betrayer. It was just  _wrong_.

She'd been constantly on the run for the past two weeks and saw no end in sight. In the beginning, she had considered turning herself in to the Ministry, but decided against it. It was likely she wouldn't be given a fair hearing. Everyone saw what she'd done at Hogwarts; if she went to the Ministry, it would be straight to Azkaban for her.

What she needed now more than ever was help from someone she could trust.

At the thought of trust, an image of Ron and Harry appeared in her mind. Her best friends were the only people she could trust with her life. She loved them like family, but how would they react when they saw her? She hoped they weren't paying attention to what the  _Daily Prophet_  wrote about her. If she ever saw them again, she'd somehow convince them of the truth: Dumbledore sent her. They had to believe that.

Harmony gasped suddenly. Slithering up her left arm she felt an intense burning sensation: her Serpentine charm. It always reacted whenever she was in danger, and the intensity differed depending on how much danger she was in. Right then her charm was telling her to get out of there as soon as possible. Harmony's eyes darted around the inn. The innkeeper was serving drinks to a couple sitting at a table, an elderly woman sat at the table across them playing Wizard Sudoku in the newspaper. But there was a man at opposite ends of the inn from her. Like she, he was sitting hidden in the corner. She hadn't noticed him before, but now she saw his shadowed face was directed towards her. Her heart pounded as she very slowly reached for her wand. She wondered if he was an Auror, or perhaps a hit man sent to hunt her down and kill her. She had been lucky in avoiding any trouble until now. Now she had made a mistake; she had been here too long.  _She had to keep running_.

Harmony pulled out her wand but kept it hidden beneath her sac. The man must have seen her movement, because he leaned forward as though preparing to leap out of his seat. As he moved, his face was exposed in the dim lights of the inn. He had dark hair and broad shoulders. Because of his dark clothing, she thought he was a Death Eater, but she'd never seen him before.

Harmony jumped up and sprinted to the exit. Out of her peripheral vision, she saw the man jump from his seat and take off after her. She dodged between the tables and slammed open the door to the inn to make her escape. Less than a second later, the man was out the door behind her.

Since meeting Voldemort, Harmony was in the best shape of her life, so she was confident she could outrun this man who was double her in both height and weight. She was sprinting through the wheat field next to the inn when she heard a familiar  _snap!_ and the dark-haired man Apparated a foot ahead of her. Harmony possessed too much momentum to stop and she slammed into his open arms. Their legs tangled in the air. The sky and the ground swirled together into one wild blur, and then stars burst behind her eyes when they landed on the ground.

For a moment, Harmony was blind and she couldn't make out whether the man's head or elbow was jutting into her chest. The man grunted and suddenly his knee slammed into her gut. The wind flew from her lungs and she heaved. His brick-sized hands gripped her shoulders and she was pushed down hard into the cold ground. She took a moment to adjust her dizzy eyes before she realized the man was on top of her.  _What the…?_

She looked up into his dark eyes that looked like never-ending black pits. The man above her grinned, a look that reminded Harmony greatly of Barty Crouch Jr. Quickly, she began to panic. Surely, he was after her because he knew who she was; he was after the money reward. But his shady smile told her he wanted as much of a reward as he could get his filthy hands on.

Harmony shoved her hands into his chest, becoming more uncomfortable with the fact her Serpentine charm was burning madly. But the man didn't budge off her and he finally spoke in a surprisingly soft voice, "Harmony Hangleton, is it?"

Harmony was so taken aback by his redundant question that she replied sarcastically, "Why yes, sir, how'd you figure that one out?"

She noticed with revulsion that he chuckled exactly the way Barty would.

He continued, "I am sure you are dying to know who this amazingly attractive man is laying on top of you."

_Good god_ , Harmony thought, fighting a gag reflex, "Not really-"

"You can call me Zeth. Just thought you might want to know the name of the man who is officially going to end your life."

Harmony's heart jumped to her throat, but she swallowed it back after she thought of an idea.

"I am flattered, really," she said, batting her eyelashes at him. "But I just don't think you are, uh, the  _one_  for me."

And like she'd done it a million times, she produced a  _Cascadia_. The powerful light flashed out of her for less than a second, but it was enough; the man called Zeth's weight quickly disappeared from her body. Harmony quickly sat up in the wheat field and looked around for Zeth. He had gone flying a couple feet away back towards the inn where a small group of on-lookers had gathered to watch the spectacle. Zeth sat up unsteadily, clutching the shoulder he had landed on.

For the first time in a long time, Harmony smiled at her success, and suddenly—more than ever—she wanted to be with her best friends. She jumped to her feet, pushing her dark blonde tresses out of her face, and took off running in the opposite direction of the inn. She needed to find where Ron and Harry were being kept. And wherever that was in the world, she desperately hoped it had a hot shower.


	3. Chapter 3

Only two places besides Hogwarts came to mind when Harmony thought of where her best friends were. She knew Aurors were keeping guard over Harry to protect him from Voldemort and also from surviving Death Eaters who got any big ideas of finishing their Master's work. Even if Harry was at Hogwarts, she had no desire to be anywhere near there now; it was undoubtedly surrounded by Ministry workers. So she left it up to her two destinations. And if they weren't there, then…she wasn't sure what she would do. She hardly wanted to think about it.

The first place Harmony searched was the Burrow. Ron Weasley's home had been a frequent hideout for all of them in the past, so when she had an accurate image of the Burrow's large, irregular formation in her mind, she Apparated. When she arrived, the  _snap_ from her Apparition echoed around the hills and valleys that surrounded the lopsided building. She looked up at the enormous structure.  _It looks empty_ , she thought with a sinking feeling. Everything was silent and still; no birds sang, not even the grass made any noise while it quivered in the wind. Her heart ached at the thought that Death Eaters had beaten her to it.

Heavy with worry, she sprinted inside the Burrow.

The Weasley's were like her second family. She was heartbroken when she found Fred Weasley dead during the battle at Hogwarts; she couldn't think she could handle all of them gone. When inside, Harmony looked around frantically, calling out their names, but there was no reply. Thankfully, there were no dead bodies, so that simply meant they weren't there. She looked around for some hint of where they could have left to, but it appeared as though everyone had Apparated on the spot. So with a silent good-bye, Harmony left the Burrow.

She imagined her next destination in her mind and Apparated with a  _snap_. Opening her eyes, she was standing on a quiet street in the suburbs. Straight ahead of her she saw Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place. It was the late Sirius Black's home and Headquarters to the Order of the Phoenix. If Harry and his Guard were anywhere, Grimmauld Place  _had_  to be it.

Harmony scanned the neighborhood. She looked out of place in the Muggle setting with her black clothes and cloak, but luckily there wasn't anyone walking nearby. She strolled up the stone steps to the house and very slowly opened the door. She was met with darkness when she stepped inside and—like the Burrow—it was dead quiet. Harmony could see things scattered across the ground as though the place had been ransacked.

She swung the door behind her and it slammed shut.

"FILTHY MUDBLOODS! CURSED DISGRACE ON THE HOUSE OF BLACK! BLOODY MUGGLEBORNS! TERRORS! ABOMINATION! DAMNATION-"

Harmony sent a  _Bombardia_  spell at Sirius' charming mother. Everything—along with the curtain that usually concealed it—blew to shreds and scattered to every corner of the room. When all was silent, Harmony released her breath. "Sorry about that, Sirius." But she could imagine his gleeful laugh at his mother's new look. Mrs. Black's shrieks would have no doubt reached every corner and crevice of the house…so where was everyone?

"Hello?" Harmony cried out, standing at the foot of the stairs. When she heard no reply, she sulked to the kitchen. Harmony gasped at the sight she was met with; every cupboard and drawer was raided. Like the Burrow, most of the food was gone. She let out a breath of exasperation. They  _had_  to have been here before. It must have become too dangerous to stay; its presence probably reached Death Eater ears and they had to leave—quickly, by the looks of things. They had to find another place to hide, why else wouldn't they be here?

Harmony dropped into one of the chairs at the kitchen table and covered her face with her hands. What was she going to do? She couldn't stay here if the Ministry knew about it. What if everyone was at Hogwarts? Should she go anyway and risk being caught by the Ministry? Wanting to make that a last resort, Harmony tried to think of anyone else who could help her. Her mind drifted as she thought of fellow Griffindors from school and Aurors that may be sympathetic enough to let her explain her story. The further her mind drifted, the stranger her ideas became.

_What if I went to Narcissa Malfoy for help? She was somewhat civilized toward me when I was with Voldemort…Maybe I could go to the Riddle mansion; there may be someone there who could help me…_

At that moment it felt like the best idea she had ever thought of, but then she jerked herself awake. She had been drifting off to sleep with her head in her hands. Now that she was fully aware, she began to realize the insanity of her thoughts.  _Go to Narcissa for help, find the Riddle mansion_ _, she thought in disbelief,_ _I must be going insane. Or just desperate_.

This was nothing new to her. These past couple weeks she had been trying to put her life with Voldemort in the back of her mind, but whenever she went to sleep images and memories of him always showed up in her dreams. The strange thing was the dreams made her  _miss_  that time she was with him.

With her tummy rumbling, Harmony rose from her seat and found some jam and bread sitting forgotten on the counter. As she munched away at the bread, she thought of who else she wanted to be with right now. She  _really_  missed her parents. She missed being taken care of, of being loved unconditionally.

The last time she had seen her family was a year ago when they dropped her off at Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. Her mum and dad would never listen to a word written in the  _Daily Prophet_  about her.  _They_  would believe her, without a doubt. She wondered what her parents would think of her being the wizarding world's most wanted criminal. Harmony laughed and thought,  _How would the wizarding world react if they found out my parents were dentists, of all things?_  She wanted to go to her parents—just to see them and hug them—but she wouldn't be able to stay there long. She couldn't just hide away from the wizarding world with her Muggle parents. No matter what she would still be a criminal, and she would risk bringing Ministry officials to her house. They might take her parents away.

Suddenly the bread became hard to swallow and it jammed in her throat.  _What if the Ministry already has my parents,_ she thought in horror. She tried to get the image of them sitting in a cold Ministry cell out of her mind. Her parents were just harmless Muggles; the Ministry would have no reason to incarcerate them. But it was a high possibility the Ministry had people keeping an eye on them in case she showed up.

Harmony sighed. "Is there anybody that could help me?"

As though answering her, she caught a small gold glint on the ground near her foot. She frowned and bent over to pick it up. It was a galleon. Harmony gasped, wiping it clean with the edge of her cloak. Her mind raced, hoping above hope the galleon was exactly what she thought it was.

In her fifth year at Hogwarts, she had made special galleons for Dumbledore's Army club to let members know when they were to meet in secret. She had told the Order about the galleons and they thought it was such a good idea they wanted some made for themselves. On the Order's galleon was a location of where they were going and when. If it was one of the Order's galleons, Harry would be with them.

She looked closer at the piece of gold, licking her lips in anticipation. Sure enough, inscribed on the edge was a location and date.

"Shell cottage," Harmony read aloud, and then read the date. "Yesterday."

 


	4. Chapter 4

Harmony had no trouble conjuring Shell cottage in her mind in order to Apparate; she was possessed with so many memories of being there. They were memories she hadn't been able to get out of her mind for the past two weeks. Just one night there and she had broken so many barriers in her relationship with Voldemort. She knew they were memories she would never forget, both the good and the bad.

Harmony squared her shoulders and closed her eyes, rejoicing in the fact she was about to see her best friends. Feeling the familiar pull of the Apparition, she twirled in the air and felt her body leave all time and space.

Then  _wham!_

Harmony screamed from shock and collapsed to the ground. Instead of feeling her  _snap_ into place like she was supposed to, Harmony felt as though she had sprint face-first into a brick wall. A loud-pitched whining filled her ears and she covered her ears with her hands. When she gasped, she tasted salt in the air. Harmony opened her eyes; she had made it to Shell cottage, but her Apparition had stopped her from going twenty feet of the building.

The door of the cottage burst open and the high-pitched whining ceased. Harmony removed her hands from her ears and stood among the tall sea grass that came up to her thighs.

Harmony recognized Bill Weasley as he walked ahead of the group of people that flood out of the cottage. She immediately knew everyone else: most of the Order, including Lupin, Tonks, and Moody. There were all of the Weasley's…except Fred, of course; George looked out of place without his twin. Then there was Harry. He stood with Ron and Ginny at the back of the group where the adults took up the front. Harmony noticed every single person had their wands drawn, prepared for battle.

She held up her hands so they clearly saw that she was unarmed and meant them no harm.  _They wouldn't really hurt me, would they?_ Harmony wondered, but everyone looked at her like a stranger. Didn't they recognize her? Then Harmony supposed her dark clothing and filthy untamed hair made her look like a Death Eater, so she spoke aloud to assure them.

"Everyone, it's me." Her voice cracked, and she swallowed before continuing, "Don't you recognize me? I'm Har-Hermione." She flinched at mistaking the names. Then the question popped into her mind: Who was she? Harmony or Hermione?

She noticed most of the Weasley's relaxed at her voice, but Harry and the Aurors cold wariness didn't change.

Bill spoke up first, "We know who you are, Hermione. But what are you doing  _here_?"

Harmony took a step forward and everyone tensed, so she froze. "I need help. I don't know if you believe in everything the Ministry and the  _Daily Prophet_  have been telling you, but  _I'm_ telling all of you,  _they lie_. I was never a Death Eater." She rolled up her sleeves to show them her bare arms where the Dark Mark would've been. Her Serpentine charm nearly slithered out into view on her left arm, but she covered it in time.

Remus Lupin stepped forward and Harmony thankfully noticed he had lowered his wand. "Hermione, the whole Ministry is hunting for you. They want justice for your actions as much as they want it from Voldemort himself."

The moment the dark wizard's name was spoken, tension rattled everyone up again and Harmony could almost sense his presence among them.

She quickly smiled to ease the strain. "I can explain everything-"

"Can you explain why you escaped Voldemort from Hogwarts?" a voice called angrily from the back of the group and everyone turned to see Harry approach with wand in hand.

"Harry," Harmony whispered pleadingly.

"I saw it with my own eyes," he said on the brink of shouting. "You fought off those Ministry workers. You stopped me from killing him, Hermione. Voldemort could be dead now if it wasn't for you!"

"I know how terrible it looks, Harry, but I had my reasons."

"You left all those months again," Harry continued, "without telling Ron or me anything."

"That," Harmony said quickly, "was because Dumbledore and Snape told me not to tell anyone. You see, Harry, it was all because of Dumbledore I was sent to Voldemort—it was a part of his plan!"

Everyone exchanged glances at this and eventually wands were lowered.

But Harry didn't look away from Harmony. He glared up at her and asked slowly, "Dumbledore  _planned_  for you to stop me from killing Voldemort?"

Harmony almost wanted to laugh, but she suppressed her emotions and shook her head. "I don't think so."

Alastor Moody limped forward on his walking stick and grasped Harry's shoulder. He growled in his deep voice, "I think we should let Miss Granger do her explaining inside, if that's alright with you, William."

Bill Weasley nodded.

Everyone filed back into Shell cottage, pocketing their wands, and Harmony descended the grassy hill to follow them. Before going inside, she noticed Ginny had stayed around to wait for her. She met Harmony with a small smile.

"I never believed what the  _Daily Prophet_  wrote about you." Ginny said, and she linked arms with Harmony. Then, before entering the cottage, she whispered into her ear, "Neither did Ron."


	5. Chapter 5

Déjà vu overcame Harmony once she was inside Shell cottage. Her memories of staying the night there with Voldemort were so vivid; she could imagine him lying naked in the bed with the quilt pulled up to his waist. The large group led her to some chairs that were only a couple feet from the very bed she slept with Voldemort. Harmony couldn't help looking over at it every now and then. It had been her first time. She remembered the fear and the trepidation and the  _exhilaration_. Deep within she knew it was something she wanted and  _had_  been wanting for some time.

Harmony looked at everyone's face and wondered: If she told them this was the very room she made love to Voldemort, would they believe her? She unconsciously gave a little shake of the head.  _Of course not…Voldemort can't love_ , they would say.

When everyone was settled, Harmony was asked to start from the beginning of her story, and from there she described her time with Lord Voldemort. She told them how Dumbledore wanted more spies among the Death Eaters and of how Snape guided her in the ways of the Dark Lord's followers.

"I was afraid I would be dead within days," Harmony commented after she told them about meeting the other Death Eaters, Bellatrix and Barty, and of Voldemort wanting to teach her. While she told them what he had taught her, she specifically left out all of the moments that contributed to the bond that formed between her and Voldemort. Like when he had shared the story of his family with her, and when he wanted her to sleep in his bed with him. It was more than enough they had to accept her playing spy to Lord Voldemort; they didn't need to know about the intimacy between them as well.

When Harmony reached the part of her story where they went on the mission to retrieve the Vanishing cabinet, Tonks interrupted, "Yeah, I remember you," she said, frowning with recollection. "Yeah, with your face covered, right? You were sticking close to Voldemort." She looked over at Lupin and Moody, "Remember, we were told that day he had a new Death Eater and we were to keep an eye out for her." She faced Harmony, her expression soft. "God, you were right in the middle of all the action. Why in the world didn't you ask us for help?"

"I wanted to so much, believe me," Harmony said, "but Snape had told me just before it wasn't time yet to reveal ourselves, so I couldn't risk blowing my cover." She gave a half smile. "And all of you were trying to kill me, so it was a little difficult."

Her story steadily became harder to describe the further it went on. It was difficult to tell them about her Serpentine charm without revealing how the charm connected her and Voldemort physically and mentally. When she arrived at the part where Voldemort told Harmony the reason of her charm, the reason he taught her and kept her close to him, she couldn't go on.

As silence filled Shell cottage, Harmony heard the words over and over in her mind, "You are the heir to Lord Voldemort.  _You are the heir to Lord Voldemort_." It still felt like that was all a part of her imagination, like they were conjured in the darkest parts of her mind. She could not fully grasp the importance of the words, and she acknowledged that she may never understand.

She skipped the rest of that part and went on to what happened directly afterward.

"Before Voldemort left with his Death Eaters to go to Hogwarts, we were talking and Draco heard my voice and figured everything out. Then he told Voldemort who I was, my real name and that I was a muggle-born."

Mrs. Weasley and Tonks gasped at this, and Ron mumbled, "Git," under his breath.

"He didn't believe Draco at first, claiming muggle-borns weren't capable of the power I had." Harmony paused, "But I didn't deny it. I told Voldemort it was true."

The group started at this.

"How could you be that stupid?" George asked, getting a cold look from his sister.

Harmony could only shrug her shoulders. She bit her lip before moving on. Tears swelled at the memories that stung like a fresh wound. "And then," she continued, sniffling, "Voldemort pointed his wand at me. To kill me."

She knew everyone thought her tears were from remembering her fear, but it wasn't that. She had never felt so much sadness in one moment. His first and only threat to kill her had been like a betrayal, a break in the unspoken promise of the bond they formed, like he was throwing away everything they shared with one another.

"Why didn't he?" Ginny asked softly, patting Harmony's shoulder in comfort.

She shook her head, unable to answer. The thing was, she wondered why herself. Had it been because of the Serpentine charm he hadn't killed her? Or was it something more?

"Anyway," she resumed after a moment to compose herself, "you know what happened with the rest, the battle at Hogwarts and everything."

"Which still leaves my question unanswered," Harry spoke for the first time since she started her story. "Why did you help Voldemort escape?"

Harmony looked over at Harry for a moment. Could she tell him the truth; that she just didn't want Voldemort to get hurt, that she was saving his life? But then that would be followed up with more questions of  _why_  she would save his life and that would be too complicated for her to explain.

"I did it partially to save you, Harry," Harmony said. "I didn't want him to kill you."

"He wouldn't have, Hermione," he replied, his voice rising, "We had everything figured out! Having all of his Horcruxes destroyed, he was beatable! You would've known that if you were even here!"

"I told you! Dumbledore asked me to leave! I couldn't refuse!"

Arthur Weasley interrupted, "That's enough, you two." Harry and Harmony shut their mouths and looked away from each other. "This situation can't be helped arguing about what has passed." He looked to Harmony, "You've been through a very difficult time," he turned to Harry pointedly, "and we  _respect_  that."

"But all of you are still not quite convinced, are you?" a cold voice said from across the room, and everyone turned to look. Severus Snape had just stepped into Shell cottage, closing the door behind him. Fleur was offering to take his cloak, but he held up a hand and shook his head.

"Severus," Bill said, standing to greet the wizard, his face void of neither warmth nor cruelty.

Snape nodded to him and then to Harry who stood and shook his hand. Harmony stared at this exchange; she had never seen Snape and Harry acknowledge each other before without resorting to violence or harsh words. She looked up into her professor's pale face half hidden behind strings of straight crow-black hair. It was the first time she had seen him since before the Battle of Hogwarts, and a part of her thought he had been killed. Truth be told, she would have been sorry to see him go; he had been a crutch for her when she first went to Voldemort. He made sure she was kept safe, and though she used to hate him before because of his cruelties to her, she appreciated his involvement with her during that terrible beginning. If Snape really hated her, he would have just left her to deal with Voldemort all alone.

Snape looked down his nose at her. "So is it Hermione or Harmony now?"

She ignored him and said while looking from him to Harry, "I've missed something, haven't I?" She knew Snape had been hated among everyone in the room, and yet now they welcomed him into their home without invitation.  _What had happened over the last two weeks_ , she wondered.

"Apparently all of us have a little explaining to do." Snape said.


	6. Chapter 6

"What happened to you at the Battle of Hogwarts?" Harmony asked Snape.

Since all of the seats were taken, Snape remained standing beside Harry's chair while he spoke. He started his story with when he left with Voldemort and broke into the Ministry of Magic to use the Vanishing cabinet. All the while, he had been updated about the Order of the Phoenix's progression with getting rid of all Voldemort's Horcruxes.

"You remember the Dark Lord's pet, Nagini, don't you?" he asked Harmony.

"The snake?" Harmony asked, frowning. "I remember he had one, but I never saw it. He kept it away."

"Yes, he made sure she was put away for safety measures. Dumbledore had warned me earlier to keep a lookout for Nagini, and later we," he beckoned to the group, "found out she was one of his Horcruxes. The Dark Lord brought Nagini with us to Hogwarts, but he was…distracted, and she was lost amid the skirmish. Neville Longbottom took care of her."

"After that, Voldemort was mortal again," Harry continued. "Of course, that was after I died."

Harmony's eyes bulged at this information.

"A part of Voldemort's soul was within me and the only way to get rid of it was for me to die," Harry explained. "His soul had been in me all this time, ever since my mother died for me."

Snape's expression darkened at the mention of Lily.

Harmony shook her head in awe. "I never knew Horcruxes could reside within a human being." She absorbed this new information eagerly.

"But it makes perfect sense, doesn't it?" Harry told her, and for a moment it was as though they were back in past when the three of them shared every bit of research with each other. "The sudden change in emotions, the dreams he sent me…"

Harmony nodded and they lapsed into awkward silence. It became so unbearable that she finally straightened her back and looked every single person in the eye. "Look at me," she said. "Am I going around gathering Death Eaters that have escaped Hogwarts? Can you imagine  _me_  plotting some evil demise in place of Lord Voldemort? I am telling you I am the girl you knew a year ago."

"No. You've changed from that girl we knew, Hermione," Ron said. She turned and looked at him. His eyes looked sad beneath his red bangs. When their eyes met, he mustered a lopsided smile but it fell a second later.

"He's right," Tonks said. "You've grown wiser, I think. But who wouldn't after spending the time you did around that much evil."

"Yes, weren't you ever hurt?" Ginny asked. "Were you ever put under an Unforgivable curse? That would have frightened me the most."

Harmony shook her head and almost smiled to herself. "No," she said, "not once."

"Well, you're incredibly lucky," Lupin replied and there were murmurs of approval.

"Hm," Moody growled, "since you're  _not_  off collaborating with Death Eaters, then what  _do_  you plan on doing?"

Harmony looked around at everyone, "I was hoping maybe you all could help me."

"You mean hide you from the Ministry."

"I, well-"

"Actually, that was the reason why I came," Snape said, stepping forward.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"You don't possibly think you can stay here," he replied, looking down his hook nose at her. Most people frowned at Snape, but others—like Molly Weasley—nodded.

"Why not?" Harmony asked, feeling she was being treated like a naive child.

He sighed as though the reasons were too simple for explanation. "The entire Ministry is hunting for you and they think the Order of the Phoenix is trying to protect Harry  _from_  people like you. You're a liability to the Order if you stick around."

"She is hardly a liability, Snape," Bill Weasley said and Harmony was thankful for his defense. "We could protect her as well as Harry."

"But the Ministry is keeping an eye on you, yes? Once they discover you're protecting her, you endanger yourselves and the Ministry will find you and stop you."

Surprisingly, Ron stood up from his seat and shouted at Snape, "They think she's a Death Eater! Those crackbrains in control of our world have no idea what they're doing. If they take her…" he looked down at her and his freckled cheeks flushed. "I won't let them! It isn't fair!"

Snape shook his head at him. "One wizard's objection against the whole wizard court means nothing. They will brush you aside as though you're nothing more than a pixie."

"There won't be just one wizard," Harry said and he stood up next to Ron.

"Harry," Harmony whispered, tears welling in her eyes.

"I know Hermione isn't a Death Eater, and I would testify for her if I had to. The Ministry would  _have_  to listen to  _me_ , right?"

"Death Eater or not," Snape said, "hundreds of witnesses saw her with the Dark Lord. Any case involving him is never taken lightly."

Lupin slowly nodded. "I would be surprised if she'd be given a fair hearing. Severus is right. Where Voldemort is concerned, the Ministry want anyone involved done away with."

Harmony shook her head when she saw the argument was tilting away from her favor. "No, please," she looked up into Snape's eyes, "I want to stay here, with Ron and Harry, it's where I feel safe."

Snape looked away from her pleading eyes. "You would be safer with less people and on the run."

"I'm sick of running," Harmony exclaimed. "I've been running for the past two weeks since I've run away from—" she quickly shut her mouth before she spurted out she'd ran away from Voldemort at Shell cottage after obliterating his memory. When Snape frowned at her inquiringly, she shook her head faintly. She forgot she still hadn't told anyone what happened after she escaped Voldemort from Hogwarts.

Bill came to her rescue, "Perhaps she could stay with us for a while, get her life sorted, and when she's ready to move on—"

"Or flee the Ministry," Snape added.

"—she can set out on her own again," Bill said, ignoring his comment. "You have to remember she's still a kid."

Harmony inwardly scoffed at his last remark. She may still be young, but she had experienced more than most people do in their lifetime.

"Set her out on her own?" Snape asked, his eyes going wide. "I don't intend to send her off to fend for herself. I was going to bring her with me."

Ron's posture straightened and he looked at Snape squarely, "You mean  _you_  would protect her? Just you?" People looked over at Ron and he went red in the ears.

Harry spoke up, "Let Ron and I come with her."

"Definitely not," Molly Weasley barked, wagging a finger at Harry. "You are not going anywhere without your guard, Harry."

He looked like he was about to argue, but Bill quickly intervened by asking Harmony, "How does that sound to you? You may not be able to stay with us long, but I'm sure you could use the rest."

Harmony looked at Bill sadly and nodded in agreement. At least now she wasn't alone. That was what scared her the most: having to deal with everything by herself.

Snape left soon afterward to attend to some business, and Harmony was officially welcomed into Shell cottage. On the night she'd stayed with Voldemort, she had only seen the one room, so she was surprised to discover how much space there was in the small cottage. When Harmony was asked if there was anything she needed, she instantly replied, "A shower."

She was shown to the master bathroom where Fleur kept an ensemble of fragrance oils, shampoos, and soaps. Before stepping into the steaming shower, she peeled off her layers of dirty black clothes like she was peeling away layers of skin, revealing a more vulnerable self. When she moved under the hot water, she sighed with contentment and it brought life back into her limbs. The fragrances were unlike anything she had ever smelled in the past year. Feeling rejuvenated, she finished her shower and wrapped a towel around herself to dry off. Fleur took her black wool clothes to wash and Harmony was given jeans and a flannel shirt in the meantime. She dried her hair until it was silky smooth and back to its original shine.

It was nearly dinnertime when she left the bathroom. She was going down the main hallway when she ran into Harry coming out of the room he shared with Ron. Harry stopped to look at her, but said nothing. She was glad she wasn't wearing her dark clothes anymore, the normal ones she wore now made her seen much more approachable.

She gave her friend an encouraging half-smile. "So what was with the change of heart? You defended me even after everything you said."

He gave a curt laugh and thought a moment. "I know you're not a Death Eater," he began, "and you said you…did what you did to save me."

 _Partially_.

"And I'm sorry I didn't listen to you at the time. It was selfish. But I'm grateful, in a way." Harry returned a small smile. "I guess what I'm trying to say is 'thanks.'"

Harmony nodded and changed the subject. "Since when did you get along with Professor Snape?"

Harry gave a small smile. "Ah, you noticed? Yeah, there's just a little more understanding between us, that's all. Actually there's a hell of a lot more understanding."

"What happened?" she asked.

"After you Apparated away from Hogwarts with Voldemort," he began, unable to suppress a look of disapproval, "he came and found me, saying he wanted to tell me something." He shook his head at the memory. "Something changed in him. It was like he was a different man."

"What do you mean?"

"First off, he began by saying he was glad I was alright."

"Whoa."

"Yeah, then he told me everything, all about Dumbledore, about Voldemort…about my mum."

"Your mother?" Harmony frowned.

Harry nodded. "They were childhood friends, Snape and my mum. They practically grew up together." He chuckled. "He really wanted her to be in Slytherin with him, so they could be together…because he was in love with her."

Harmony's eyes widened.

Harry smiled sadly. "He still is."

"But," Harmony said, her mind struggling to adjust to the news, "she was a Muggle-born, how could he?"

Harry shrugged, "I suppose it didn't matter to him."

Harmony soaked this new information in, all the while feeling like she had heard this story before. Then she realized she hadn't  _heard_  this, she  _lived_  it. Snape was a half-blood like Voldemort, and Lily was a Muggle-born like herself. Lord Voldemort had said so himself: it didn't matter she was Muggle-born, considering how well she was at magic…and being his chosen one. Snape loved Lily, how could Voldemort be any different?

She shook her thoughts away. It felt strange to be thinking about love and Voldemort at the same time with Harry standing so nearby.

"So Snape loved your mother, then why did he hate you, her son?" she asked.

"Oh, because of my dad, I think," Harry explained. "Never got along well, he and my dad. Snape was jealous when my mum and dad fell in love, and since I look so much like my dad, well, he couldn't help but hate me, could he? Yeah, but Snape never stopped loving her."

Suddenly Mrs. Weasley's voice boomed from the kitchen calling everyone to dinner.

Harry looked back at Harmony and said, "We'll talk after we eat, yeah?"

She nodded. "Yeah, sure," and they walked together to the kitchen.

A large table, which had not been there when she and Voldemort were at Shell cottage, now filled up the space between the kitchen and the living room. The room was alive with people gathering around the table stacked with warm delicious food. As Harmony found a seat between Ginny and Ron, her heart was filled with contentment. She felt like she was a part of a family again. Although there was still a little distance between her and the others, they had accepted her presence, and that was all that mattered right now.

Harmony looked around at the group from her seat; Bill sat at the end of the table with the beautiful Fleur by his side, followed by the rest of the Weasley's, and then Tonks and Lupin who exchanged love-filled gazes every now and then.

Last to sit down was Moody who came into the room with his crooked nose stuck in  _The Daily Prophet_. Harmony spotted the familiar picture of Voldemort on the cover. Before sitting down at the table, he folded the newspaper away and stashed it in his large coat. His magical eye spun onto Harmony when he took the seat directly across from her. She sensed he had just finished reading the article about her in  _The Daily Prophet_ before putting it away. Though his normal eye looked on hungrily while he stacked food onto his plate, his magical blue eye was trained on her throughout dinner remaining unusually still.


	7. Chapter 7

After having a delicious desert of pumpkin cake, Harmony, Ron, Harry, and Ginny escaped the adults and went into Ron's room to talk. The girls sat on Ron's bed while Ron and Harry sat on the ground with their backs against the wall.

"I've really missed your mum's cooking, Ron," Harmony said. "I haven't eaten that well in a while."

"What, you didn't eat when you were with  _him_?" Harry asked, his eyebrows rising up beneath his bangs.

"Yeah, you're as skinny as a wand," Ginny said, poking her ribs.

"Oh I ate," she replied, remembering the countless nights of dinning with Voldemort in his room. "But the Death Eater that cooked for us was  _horrible_."

"Mum always said the food you eat affects your mood," Ron said.

"Oh," Ginny grinned, "no  _wonder_  Voldemort has such a foul temper."

Harmony laughed along with the others.

"I was telling Hermione earlier about Snape and my mum."

"Isn't that bonkers?" Ron exclaimed. "To think all this time we wondered why Snape hated Harry so much, and it was all because Harry's dad stole his girl." He got a good chuckle out of that. "It's so weird, Snape in love. Who would've thought, you know?"

"His love for my mum was the whole reason he stopped being a Death Eater. He hated Voldemort for killing her."

"Then he went undercover, right?" Ginny asked.

"For Dumbledore, yeah," Harry nodded. "For nearly eighteen years he'd been working against Voldemort for Dumbledore, and to protect me." Harry was silent a moment, staring at his feet stretched before him. "He's the bravest man I know."

"It's so sad," Ginny said quietly, "what Dumbledore asked Snape to do for him."

Harry and Ron nodded.

Harmony looked around, frowning. "What are you talking about?"

Ron's red eyebrows rose in surprise. "What? You mean you don't know?"

"Know what?"

"Snape was the one who killed Dumbledore, for Draco," Harry explained.

Harmony shot up in her seat and exclaimed, " _What_?"

"I can't believe you didn't know that," Ron said. "Everybody knows that."

"Not I," Harmony sputtered. "Not even Voldemort."

Harry's eyes narrowed. "How do you know that?"

"Because that was what he told me the night Dumbledore died,'" Harmony said, the words tumbling out of her mouth, "He was so proud of him. He was going to reward Draco very well for it."

"Did Voldemort tell you lots of things?" Harry asked, his eyes glaring up at Harmony. "Did you two share a lot of conversations?"

Ginny rolled her eyes when she saw where he was going.

"Come on, Harry," Ron said, elbowing him in the ribs. "Can't you get over it? She was just a spy, like Snape."

"No, it's alright," Harmony said. "He has a right to be suspicious. We were suspicious of Snape, weren't we?"

"And we were wrong," Ron pointed out. "But I don't think it's really fair to compare you to Snape, I mean, he's just a suspicious-looking mate, period."

Harmony looked to Harry, her eyes pleading. "Is there any way I could absolutely convince you I am not a bad guy?"

Before Harry could reply there was a small knock on the bedroom door. The door opened a crack and Fleur's white-blonde head appeared.

"Airmione?" she asked in her strong French accent.

"Yes, Fleur," Harmony replied as the young woman stepped into the room, holding a familiar book in her hands.

"I 'ope you wouldn't mind, but I looked through your sac to find more clothes to wash." She held out the book to Harmony with delicate hands. "And I found 'dis in your sac. I thought you might want it."

"Oh," Harmony read the front of the book, "thank you, Fleur." She quickly grabbed the book with a strained smile and tucked the book beneath her so the others wouldn't read the title. She had completely forgotten about the book that she carried with her since the night of the battle at Hogwarts.

When Fleur was gone Harry asked casually, "Which book is it?"

"Huh?" she asked, although she had heard him clearly. She raised her eyebrows innocently. "Oh. It's nothing. You know, I just always keep a book on me in case I get bored."

"Ah," Harry said, nodding as though he understood. But in a flash he and Ginny jumped at her, reaching for the book.

Harmony squeaked, "No, you guys, it's nothing! Really!" She tried to push their hands away, but Ginny got her fingers around the spine and pulled it out from under her. When it was free, she tossed it to Harry who jumped away from Harmony's reach.

The room was silent as Harry flipped through the book's old crinkled pages.

"Hm," he turned around, holding the title page open for the others to see. "Horcruxes. A bit of light reading, Hermione?"

"That," she said pointedly, looking hard at everyone, "is  _not_  my book."

"No, of course not," Harry said, looking down at the book in distaste. "I suppose it just found its own way into your sac without you knowing."

"What I mean is," Harmony grabbing for the book again and this time Harry let her take it, "it doesn't belong to me. But I had a vivid dream about the book and the very next morning I saw it. So it seemed important, like I was meant to find it. So I…well…I kind of stole it."

"From who?"

"Um," she hesitated, "Voldemort."

There was a moment of shocked silence, and then everyone burst out laughing.

"You  _stole_  from  _Voldemort_!"

"You're mad!" Ginny said with her freckled cheeks flushed.

"Have you figured out why you dreamt about the book?" Harry asked.

Harmony shook her head. "No. I've hardly had a chance to read it."

"That's just weird," Ron said. "I mean, you dreamt about the same exact book. What do  _you_  have to do with Horcruxes? That stuff is supposed to be really dark magic."

"Well," Harmony began slowly, not meeting anyone's eye. "Voldemort  _did_  say something about teaching me to make a horcrux."

"Oh, no," Ginny said. "Did he ever get to?"

"No, thank goodness."

"You know what it takes to make a Horcruxes, right?" Harry asked. When the others just stared at him, he continued, "The person making the horcrux has to murder someone, and then a part of their soul rips away. If they didn't intend to make the horcrux the piece of the soul finds the closest living thing and inhabits it."

Harmony felt Ginny shiver next to her on the bed, and Ginny said sympathetically to Harry, "It sounds horrible. I'm so glad it's over, Harry, having Voldemort's soul in you."

"Horrible as in feeling emotions that aren't my own and having Voldemort invade my mind?" Harry said with a dark expression. "Yeah, it was bad, and they're gone now." He looked to Harmony then, and said as though speaking directly to her, "But it's  _not_  over. Not yet."


	8. Chapter 8

When Harmony and Ginny left the boys' room to go to bed, Harry's words raced through her mind. He said it wasn't over, meaning it wouldn't be over until Voldemort was dead. Harmony wanted to tell Harry that that wasn't going to happen; she wasn't going to  _let_  that happen. With Voldemort's memory gone, he was as harmless as a child. If Harry was going to kill Voldemort, he'd have to go through her first. She wasn't sure where the sudden desire to protect her old master came from, but she knew it was true. If it ever came to it, she wouldn't stand by and watch Harry murder him.

 _At least Voldemort is safe inside Menkar, where no one can hurt him_ , Harmony thought as she climbed the stairs to Ginny's room.

When she reached the top of the stairs, a gruff voice called up to her, "Miss Granger!"

She jumped back down the stairs and was met by Mad-Eye Moody's penetrating gaze. His normal eye narrowed at the sight of her.

"Yes, sir?" she inquired politely, remembering Moody's intent gaze trained upon her all dinner.

He pointed a thumb over his shoulder. "I believe Miss Fleur has your  _Death Eater_  clothes cleaned and ready in the laundry room."

Harmony thanked him and wondered why Fleur didn't tell her herself. When Moody didn't move to leave, she slid past him with her back against the wall and walked down the hallway. She remembered where the laundry room was from the tour Fleur gave her earlier that day. The little room resided on the far side of Shell cottage, away from the kitchen and living room. When Harmony walked inside, the smell of laundry detergent filled her nose. She found her black wool clothes folded neatly in a wicker basket. She brought the clothes to her face, breathing in the clean scent; they smelled better than even when she first got them. Snape had given them to her smelling like pine and campfire, and she never found out where exactly he got the women's clothing.

Suddenly the laundry room door banged shut behind her, making her jump and spin around with a gasp on her lips. She was surprised to see Moody there in the room with her, a hand wrapped around the door handle.

"Sir?" Harmony said slowly, holding her clean clothes to her chest.

Without a word, Moody released the handle and took a step toward her. He reached into his jacket and pulled out the copy of  _The Daily Prophet_  he was reading earlier. He unfolded the newspaper dramatically and opened it to what Harmony guessed was page five.

He cleared his throat and began in his scratchy voice, "'Granger not only is a follower of the Dark Lord, but also possesses a unique Death Eater mark called a Serpentine charm…it is understood she is the only follower of You-Know-Who ever to possess such a charm.'" Moody looked up at her from the newspaper as he folded it back into his jacket. When he said nothing, Harmony knew he was waiting for her to speak.

"I told you about the charm, remember?" Harmony said. The palms of her hands were beginning to sweat. "The snake charm, the thing he used to keep an eye on me."

Moody nodded. "I remember you telling us about a charm, but the funny thing is, Miss Granger," he chuckled dryly, "I don't remember you telling us exactly what the  _charm means_."

Harmony gulped. She wondered what Moody was getting at. How could he possibly know the Serpentine charm was more important than she let on? As she replied, her eyes drifted over his shoulder to the laundry room door, and she found herself wondering if it was locked or not. "I don't know what you mean."

Straight away she knew he didn't believe her, because when he chuckled again his face screwed up into a sneer. He took another step toward her, making her feel claustrophobic in the small space of the laundry room.

"That's a pity, but I suppose it doesn't matter," Moody growled, "because  _I_   _do_  know."

Harmony held back a gasp as she looked up at his scarred face. Her mind screamed,  _He knows the meaning of the Serpentine charm?_

"I am not one to be easily fooled, Miss Granger," Moody said. "I have been an Auror for most of my life, and I have learned a fair share about the dark magic Lord Voldemort has up his despicable sleeve." His normal eye turned sad when he added, "It's a pity he had to choose a kind girl like you."

Her throat had suddenly gone dry and she swallowed before whispering, "Have you told anyone?"

Moody barked a laugh and waved his arms around. "If you think I told anyone, why in God's name would I be speaking to you  _here_?"

Harmony breathed a sigh of relief, but told herself not to relax just yet. "So you haven't told anyone. Why?"

"I wanted to hear from you if it was true," Moody said, "because  _The Daily Prophet_  has obviously lied about other matters concerning you. You see, I—like Potter—believe you are not a Death Eater. I can sense a Death Eater a mile away, while you possess a different kind of aura, one I've felt only the Dark Lord himself possess."

"What do you mean I have an aura like Voldemort?"

"I'm sure Potter would understand if he still had a piece of the Dark Lord's soul. It is like feeling  _his_  presence when you are around. It is a heavy feeling."

"You speak as though a part of Voldemort's soul is within me. But, sir, I assure you it's just a charm."

"Hm," Moody growled, "but a powerful one at that. You are aware what this charm means, don't you, Miss Granger?"

Harmony nodded gravely, and she whispered as though afraid the whole world might hear, "I am his heir."

Moody growled again, "And you understand that this fate is unavoidable, that it is your destiny?"

Harmony gave him a hard look. "Unavoidable? No, I have a choice."

"No, you do not," Moody said deliberately. "This charm, like the Death Eater's Dark Mark, will be with you until the day you die, and it will forever be a beacon to those who follow the Dark Lord."

Harmony shook her head in denial and tears filled her eyes. Her voice quivered as she spoke, "No! I refuse to accept the responsibilities of the charm. I will not follow in his footsteps!"

"I'm afraid you have no choice." Moody said as delicately as he could.

"Do you know what this means? I would be a leader to people who  _kill_  anyone like me. Do you know how absurd that is?" Harmony was nearly hysterical now. "But I will  _not_  murder my own people, not even the most powerful of magic could change my mind."

"I see your heart is in the right place," Moody said calmly. "But if you run, they will find you."

Harmony sighed in frustration and roughly wiped away an escaped tear. "If it is so unavoidable, they why don't you turn me in? You could just get it over with."

"Because," Moody said as though happy they were finally moving on to more important matters, "I believe we can use your misfortune to our advantage. You could be our best insider to destroy the rest of the Death Eaters."

"Ha," Harmony laughed dryly, "tell that to the Ministry."

As though Moody didn't notice her sarcasm, he continued gravely, "No, no, the Ministry wouldn't listen. To them a crime's a crime, and they have no better intention than to lock you away."

"Great," Harmony said, shrugging. "Wonderful,  _perfect_ , so I'll just do our world a service by destroying the rest of the Death Eaters—if there are even any—and then they can drag me away and throw me in Azkaban. Sounds fair."

Moody pursed his lips and said, "Yes, the plan has its flaws but the Order will stand for you. We are respected members of the Ministry, so those madmen that run the place will have to listen."

"I am sorry to say, sir," Harmony said, "that I'm still not reassured."

There was a small knock on the door and Moody turned around in time to see Ginny poke her head in.

"Oh! I'm sorry," she said. "I was looking for Hermione, and I heard talking in here…"

"That's quite alright, Miss Weasley," Moody said, stepping away from Harmony. "Granger, here, was just telling me stories of her travels, quite enthralling."

Ginny nodded slowly as her eyes darted from Harmony to Moody.

"Well," Moody barked, making the girls jump. "Goodnight." He limped out of the room, his faux boot and walking stick making a  _kar-plunk_  against the stone floor.

The girl's eyes followed him out of the room and around the corner. Then Ginny slowly turned her eyes back to Harmony; her face was screwed up in a comical way that made Harmony giggle. Then Ginny said, "Well…you could have at least warned me that you wanted a moment alone with your boyfriend."

The girls burst into a fit of laughter. Harmony tossed her armful of clothes at Ginny who caught them and sprinted out of the room. Harmony raced after her feeling more like a seventeen year old kid and less like the wizarding world's future tyrant.


	9. Chapter 9

In Ginny's room, Ginny offered Harmony the bed instead of the cold floor, but Harmony insisted she was alright. The cold floor and a couple bed covers were much better than the conditions she endured for several nights in the past two weeks. She liked camping, but having no tent, no blanket, and no food was unbearable. She desperately wished she had thought of putting an Extension charm on her sac and packed a few essentials before leaving the Riddle mansion or Shell cottage. Luckily, Harmony found a few galleons in the sac and she was able to get by until that man, Zeth, found her.

Now, as though everything she'd experienced had been a dream, she was safely chatting away with Ginny like they used to.

"Ron's been worried about you, you know," Ginny said from the bed. "Never seen him so happy as when you showed up today."

"Really?" Harmony said. She hadn't noticed.

"Oh yeah," Ginny said after a deep yawn which caught on to Harmony.

"Stop it," Harmony said, fighting the yawn, "you're making me tired."

Ginny giggled and moved onto her side with a sigh as though getting ready to fall asleep. Since things appeared to be winding down, Harmony slipped underneath her bedcovers and shifted into a comfortable position. She sighed, letting her body grow heavy and sink into the floor.

Then out of the blue, "So," Ginny said, making Harmony float back up to wakefulness, "Lord Voldemort, what's he like?"

Harmony was taken aback. "Um."

"He must've been really horrible, huh?"

"Well-"

"I know you said he taught you lessons and everything, but did you get to know him personally?"

"Y-"

"But if you don't want to talk about it, I would completely understand. I'm just worried, but also curious because how many people know Lord Voldemort personally and live to tell others about him?"

"Yes, I knew him personally," Harmony explained. "I knew him in a way none of his Death Eaters ever knew him." A flood of excitement came over her, and she had the sudden desire to tell Ginny everything.

"What kind of things did you two talk about?"

Harmony thought a moment; they had talked about so much, but then she remembered, "He talked to me about his family."

"His family," Ginny said in a hushed voice. "That's intense."

"Yeah, it's a bit of a touchy subject for him," Harmony said and she noticed she must have sounded like a school-girl boasting about how well she knew her boyfriend.  _So childish_ , she thought,  _so normal_. Harmony rolled over so her back was to Ginny. "I'm a bit tired now. We should get some rest."

"Wait," Ginny quickly added. "Did you and Voldemort ever—?"

"Goodnight, Ginny," Harmony intervened. Her heart ached when she was first met with silence. But after a second she heard Ginny grumble stubbornly and move around in her bed until she was comfortable.

Harmony quickly fell back into a light doze. She slowly began to feel herself floating, and in her mind's eye flashed forests and fields whisking by below her. It was like a part of her was traveling at a high speed out into the night; though she was still aware her body remained in the bed on the floor. Her outer-body then spotted familiar scenery. She saw the inn she had stayed at the night before, a beach, and finally Shell cottage sitting all by its lonesome in the moonlight next to the water that was as black as night. A gust of wind blew across the sea and Harmony shivered in her bed.

Ginny let loose a sudden snore which ripped Harmony awake and she was no longer flying above the very building she slept in. Harmony moved over to look up at Ginny irritably. She hoped her snoring wasn't going to be a constant problem throughout the night; she really needed some sleep. Harmony sighed and waited for sleep to return.

But something within the room caught her eye.

As her eyes scanned away from Ginny, there was the slightest movement in the corner of the bedroom. Harmony squinted at a ray of moonlight that drifted across to the wall, and she made out a pale shape. To her it looked kind of like…

Harmony shot up in her bed. The pale figure looked like a face, and it was staring directly at her! The breath from her gasp choked off the scream that tried to crawl its way out of her mouth. She'd know that face anywhere.

It was  _his_  face.


	10. Chapter 10

He moved slowly and came to the center of the room where he was fully immersed in the light of the moon through the window. His cloak, which flowed off his shoulders to the ground, was as black as sin making his head appear like it was floating in the shadows. His very presence made the air thick and Harmony felt dizzy trying to gasp in enough oxygen. Her eyes never left his. Brown to piercing blue. She felt herself push back her covers and slip out of the bed.

His black robes whispered as he glided over to her, the same moment Harmony stood out of bed. He loomed over her as she stared up into his familiar face. He was near enough that she could feel the heat of his body coming from beneath his robes. The very sight of him brought a warm stirring in the pit of her stomach.

Her Serpentine charm tingled on her skin over her chest, not because it sensed danger but sensed it was once again reunited with its master.

Voldemort drew his face closer to her own and she thought his might kiss her. In her frozen state she hadn't noticed he'd placed a surprisingly warm hand on her arm. Harmony saw small movement over his cloaked shoulder, and she dragged her eyes away unwillingly, just in time to see Ginny rolling over in her sleep. She desperately hoped Ginny wouldn't wake.

When she brought her eyes back to him, he surprised her when he spoke.

"Harmony."

The sound of his voice conjured a plethora of memories—both good and bad—and she listened with a sense of both exhilaration and dread.

"My family is gathering now," he continued. "With time I shall rise again."

When she found her voice, it sounded breathy and lost. "You family…" Then she understood. "Your followers." She shook her head slightly and his eyes followed her every movement, intense and unblinking. "No," she said, "they're all dead, I—" She was cut off short when he leaned forward and brought his lips to her neck where a part of her Serpentine charm slithered out from beneath her shirt.

She was suddenly lost for words. His closeness was breathtaking, and like a dam breaking, memories of their night at Shell cottage together flooded her mind making it difficult to concentrate. Her eyes flickered again back to Ginny, hoping she wouldn't wake for a new reason: so she wouldn't see how intimate she was with the Dark Lord. She had meant to keep their close bond a secret and she intended to keep it that way.

"How are you here?" she asked. "You're at Menkar. You don't remember anything."

At this he laughed and it sent shills up her back making the hairs on the nape of her neck stand. He moved his mouth to her ear and his cheek brushed the side of her face softly.

He purred, "We have been searching for you." His breath was hot and it made her skin tingle. "Stop hiding, Harmony, it is time to come home."

A subtle whining sound slowly filled her ears and she looked around curiously. Then the whining burst her eardrums with a new intensity as though she suddenly resurfaced from underwater.

Harmony opened her eyes, blinded by the room lights and surrounded by commotion. Beside her, she saw Ginny was quickly pulling on a pair of jeans with her wand clutched in one hand. Harmony sat up on her elbow letting her eyes adjust to the bright lights.

She looked around the room, checking every corner not really knowing what to expect: Lord Voldemort hiding behind Ginny's wardrobe? She gave a curt humorless laugh at the thought. She just wanted— _hoped for_ —some proof that what just happened was real. But he wasn't anywhere in sight.  _He was just a dream_ , Harmony thought, not sure how to feel.

If he really had been there that would've meant he escaped the Ministry and was out of harm's way. But she would have had to figure out how to escape the fate of the Serpentine charm. She would have to convince him to forget about her…The very thought pulled at a heartstring. A little voice inside her head asked that if given the chance go back in time, would she still erase his memory? She could hardly think of an answer.

Harmony brought a hand up to her cheek. Perhaps she was just imagining it, but it still felt hot from his breath when he spoke in her ear.  _We have been searching for you_ , he had said. She shivered and then looked up at Ginny. The loud whining was still ringing through her ears and it was beginning to give her a piercing headache.

"What's that horrible noise?" she asked as Ginny finished getting dressed.

"Get your wand!" Ginny exclaimed. "That alarm goes off when a wizard tries to Apparate pass the barrier. Someone's trying to get inside!"

Suddenly the bedroom door burst open revealing a frantic Ronald Weasley.

"Hurry up, Ginny, Mum wants us all downstairs!" He looked over at Harmony and immediately noticed she was still wearing only her sleeping undergarments. His mouth fell open. Like a shot, Harmony concealed herself with her bedcovers and Ginny rocket a pillow at Ron's head with her wand.

"Oi!" she shouted. "We'll be right down!"

Ron left in time for Harmony to see his ears turning crimson beneath his mane of red hair.

Everyone was gathered downstairs when Harmony and Ginny arrived. Immediately Ginny went to Harry's side and slipped her hand in his. Harmony glanced over at Ron who had been looking at her, though he quickly turned his gaze away. A new blush crept into his freckled cheeks. The group of witches and wizards exchanged nervous, but ready glances before the adults filed out of the cottage with the kids taking up the back.

With the wind carrying the roar of the ocean waves to their ears, everyone spotted the intruder instantly on the grassy hill with the sky slowly turning pink behind him. The man's dark clothes brought contrast to the light brown grass quivering at his knees.

Harmony recognized the man right away. It was the very same man who attacked her at the inn the other day, Zeth. Although his face was still shadowed from the dawn, she could feel his eyes piercing through the Guard straight to her.

Harmony stared back, glaring at him disdainfully.

She had expected the Guard to question him strictly, to show him how unwelcome he was, and to state his business while keeping him under intense scrutiny. But Harmony was nowhere near expecting what actually came next.

"Zeth!" Bill Weasley called out. He sounded dreadfully relieved. "Bloody hell, man, you gave our lot quite a scare!" From behind, Harmony could hear the friendly smile in his voice. "Come inside and warm up! I know it's a long walk from town."

Zeth didn't take a step closer; in fact he didn't move a muscle. His eyes never left Harmony. "No, thanks, Bill," he said, his voice unusually calm. "I'm here on business, actually. I do believe, Bill, you have something that belongs to me."


	11. Chapter 11

The venom in Harmony's eyes tripled as she looked back at Zeth.

Bill's voice was hesitant and unsure when he said, "Sorry?"

Now Zeth's eyes left Harmony, shooting to Bill; his calm exterior was slipping away. "I know you are young, Bill, but don't be a fool. We both know you are holding a wanted criminal against the Ministry."

The group was silent, and Harmony knew the same question was going through everyone's mind at once: how did he know? Bill quickly exchanged glances with the others, but when no one else spoke up he took the responsibility on himself and said to Zeth, "We believe Dumbledore had to do with why Hermione Granger was involved with Voldemort."

"On who's word?" Zeth was quick to ask. "Hers?"

"She is trusted among us," Lupin said in defense.

"But not with the Ministry, and you being Ministry officials, aiding the enemy would only make you criminals yourselves."

"The enemy?" Bill exclaimed. "Zeth, she is just a child. Come, at least listen to her story-"

"If she needs help, then she would best get it at the Ministry."

"Help?" Moody roared. "If you turn her in to the Ministry you really think she will get a fair trial? Like Sirius Black had a fair trial?"

"Not to mention the reward," mumbled Tonks.

"A reward there may be, but my only incentive is justice."

"Bullocks," one of the younger wizards said and Zeth looked around the group angrily to spot the culprit.

Bill looked hard at Zeth and pointed a finger up at him, "No one touches the girl. You hear me, Zeth?"

Zeth's once calm exterior was gone and the rising sun now enflamed his raged face. With a hard voice he replied, "That is not up to you,  _neighbor_." He nodded his head to Harmony, "She comes with me to the Ministry now or all of you will be hunted until she is caught."

" _Justice_  is keeping an innocent from behind bars. When the Ministry is ready to accept that, let us know. But in the meantime," Bill said up to Zeth, "she stays away from you."

Zeth was silent at this, and Harmony could imagine the battle going on inside his head as he thought. His hand twitched for his wand, and she knew he was considering whether or not to fight his way to her. As though he knew Harmony noticed this, he bunched his hands into fists to restrain himself. When he realized fighting was not an option, he straightened his shoulders and lifted his chin to the rising sun behind them, showing reluctant defeat.

"Very well. She better be gone in ten minutes," he said icily, "because that's how long it's going to take me to contact the Ministry." With a  _snap_  he Apparated and was gone.

Mad-Eyed Moody swore under his breath as everyone exchanged frantic glances.

Molly Weasley spoke first, "Do you really think-?"

"I think he's bluffing it," George said.

"I wouldn't risk it," Bill said, settling the matter.

Harmony's heart dropped to the pit of her stomach like a boulder weighing her down with guilt. All she could think of were Snape's words.  _He was right_ , she thought. She was a liability to them. Her friends were in danger because of her. Would the Ministry punish them for helping her? She looked around in time to see Mrs. Weasley flash a glance that was everything but warm, and Harmony quickly looked away. In her mind's she saw Fred's lifeless body lying against the wall during the battle at Hogwarts. The Weasley family had already been through so much; who was she to put them into this kind of danger?

Harry was different. He was the "good" guy trying to get rid of Voldemort. He was worth the trouble, while she…wasn't.

Moody spoke the very thoughts that raced through her mind. "Bring Snape back, he'll need to take her right now."

Lupin nodded and immediately sent a massage by Patronus.

Bill came up to Harmony and laid a hand on her shoulder, "This is happening so much quicker than I anticipated. I really had no idea my good friend and neighbor, Zeth, knew." He gripped her shoulder. "I'm very sorry, Hermione."

Harmony flinched at her old name as though he were speaking to a stranger. She nodded sadly in understanding. "It's okay. I don't want to bring any more trouble to all of you."

Waving her hands about like a worried old hen, Mrs. Weasley shooed Harmony inside to quickly retrieve her things. Ginny, Harry, and Ron followed her back into Shell cottage.

"I don't want you to leave," Ron said to Harmony's back as they raced up to Ginny's room.

"I know," she replied, and she spun around when Ron grasped her elbow to stop her.

"I don't want you to leave," he repeated through gritted teeth. "I hate that you're going with Snape, of all people. It's dangerous out there."

"I'll be fine, Ron," she replied, reclaiming her elbow. "I've been in worse danger." She almost laughed at the truth of her words. "It's nothing I can't handle."

"I trust Snape," Harry said quietly to Ron. "I don't like her leaving either, but he'll protect her just fine."

Harmony gave Ron a quick glance before turning away and continuing up the stairs to get her belongings. She found her Horcrux book and her green and silver Slytherin celebration dress. She had considered giving Ginny the dress, but apart from not wanting to part with the souvenir, she realized Ginny would want nothing to do with anything Slytherin.

"Message us by Patronus sometime," Ginny said as she embraced Harmony after they got ready to leave the cottage. "Just let us know that you're still alive."

"Thanks," Harmony said. "I will. Thanks for everything." She looked at each of her friends in the eye. "Really, I mean it. Thank you for listening to me," her eyes drifted to Harry, "I know how hard it is, but it means so much to have your support." Tears flooded her vision, "I really needed you."

Ron was next to wrap his arms around her and she thankfully wiped her tears away on his knitted sweater.

"We're not dead yet," said Harry with a weak smile. "I'm sure we'll see each other again."

"Oh, Harry," Harmony whispered, and she unwound her arms from Ron, reaching for Harry.

When they embraced, she was utterly unprepared for what happened next.

From the point their bodies met it felt as though a bolt of lightning coursed between them. The sound of a woman's scream reverberated inside her head; pain unmercifully pounded her mind like a hammer. Harmony was filled with unfamiliar hunger…a hunger to kill. The searing pain blinded her briefly, but with a snap her mind was cleared. She felt a sudden burst in the chest, forcing the air out of her lungs, and she saw Harry had shoved his hands in her chest to push her away. His face was enraged, teeth gritted, as his hands reached up to his lightning bolt scar.

She looked around wonderingly and her eyes her reflection in a mirror on the wall. Beneath unruly bangs, the whites of her crazed eyes showed over dark half-circle shadows. The corners of her mouth were curved upward in a sneer that reminded her all too much of Voldemort.

_Who am I?_

In seconds, her mind cleared and the sneer on her mouth faded. Her brown eyes turned back to normal and with a trembling hand she brushed her bangs away from her face. She looked at everyone out of the corner of her eye. Ron and Ginny stared at her as though she were a rabid animal waiting to be released from her cage. Harry's face had gone slick with sweat and she saw beneath tender fingers his scar was flaming magenta. His eyes were too full of shock to register any anger.

_What have I done?_

"I…" Harmony choked, not knowing what to say.

"I thought I'd never feel that way again," Harry whispered as he gingerly messaged his scar. "The way I felt, it was just like…like you were… _him_." He shook his head, unable to go on.

"I don't know what to say," Harmony said in a hushed tone. "I had no control over what just happened. I'm sorry-"

"You need to go," Harry interrupted, and when his eyes met hers he looked conflicted. "You need to hurry before the Ministry arrives."

Harmony bit her lip, knowing this was the worst possible way to say goodbye, but with a quick glance at Ron and Ginny, she spun around and sprinted out the front door. She ran from the building overwhelmed by déjà vu. This very moment was like when she ran from Voldemort after erasing his memories. Just like then, she was running away with the fear of what she couldn't explain.

Snape's dark figure was waiting for her like the grim reaper standing alone at the top of the hill. She passed around quick hugs and fervent thanks before taking a step towards what felt like the end. But she knew she still had a long way to go before "the end" would be in reach.

 


	12. Chapter 12

The moment Snape's fingers wrapped around her wrist, her world instantly went topsy-turvy. Their bodies turned to rubber and stretched while being forced through the black hole. Their surroundings melted away and Shell cottage distorted and disappeared. Snape's black cloak enveloped her like a living shadow swallowing her whole. When she side-Apparated, her feet landed on unstable ground and she toppled over. Her bottom landed on something rough and solid and Snape's cloak whipped away from her face.

Unlike the warm sunny weather at Shell cottage, they had Apparated to a place under a shroud of dark clouds threatening to unleash a torrent of rain. The weather matched her mood perfectly. She looked around glumly at the tall brick walls on either side of them. They were hidden in the shadows at the mouth of an alleyway leading to a street of some neighborhood. Harmony's back rested against one of the brick walls which was slick with grime. Snape slinked against the adjacent wall and peeked out, looking left and right down the street.

He was mumbling under his breath, "They should have listened to me in the first place. But since when did that lot ever listen? Now the entire Ministry will be after their skins." He looked over at Harmony out of the corner of his dark eyes. "It's a good thing Lupin contacted me when he did or you would be suffering the Dementor's Kiss by now. Last moment,  _as always_."

Harmony's head fell forward, a mane of hair hiding her face. She said nothing and he was about to ask her what her problem was when he noticed her shoulders were trembling.

She couldn't hold back the sudden wave of tears. She would've liked to have waited until she was alone to cry, but the pain was too much.

"What?" Snape asked her sharply.

She gasped a sob, bringing up a sleeve to wipe her face. Her other hand came over her mouth to keep from screaming. She didn't struggle when Snape strode over to her and grasped her elbow, roughly bringing her to her feet.

"There's enough time for that later," he growled and when Harmony turned her face away from him in shame, he added, "That's enough—"

"It's Harry," she choked, wiping her eyes. "When I touched him it was like Voldemort took over me." She sobbed, "You should've seen the way they looked at me, they  _feared_  me."

Snape froze at the mention of the Dark Lord. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," she said sharply, looking him straight in the eyes, "when I touched Harry I wanted to kill him!" The way Snape stared back made her crumble with shame and she looked away.

"You think it has something to do with your Serpentine charm?" he asked.

She shook her head. "I don't know. But I have a feeling it's important."

A curtain of black hair shielded his face when he nodded once. "You are the first to have the Serpentine charm; the unexpected is to be anticipated." He beckoned to the street ahead of them. "But for now, you must handle them as they come. We need to continue on the move."

Harmony fastened her pack over her shoulder and followed Snape out onto the street. The neighborhood was rugged and worn, like a ghost town. The place reminded her of Knockturn Alley, someplace she was not keen on remembering. Tall, tilting houses loomed over them like overgrown trees.

"Where are we?" Harmony asked quietly. She wasn't sure why she was whispering, maybe because she felt like they were being watched, even though all sidewalks were vacant.

Snape replied without looking back at her, "Spinner's End." His voice was flat and emotionless, and she sensed he had some sort of history with this gloomy neighborhood.

"What's here in Spinner's End?" she asked, still whispering.

"My home," he said, and at that very moment Snape turned towards one house in particular and strode up to the door.

Harmony was somewhat surprised at this. She never imagined Snape living in a house, silly as it sounded. She always thought of Snape as he was at Hogwarts or the Riddle mansion, so to think of him lying around, reading a book or cooking meals like a normal human being seemed strange.

She followed him inside and her eyes were veiled in the darkness. She didn't see Snape stop in front of her and she smacked into him.

"What's wrong?" she said.

"Take out your wand," he ordered sharply.

Harmony recognized the worry in his voice and quickly whipped out her wand. " _Lumos_ ," she and Snape said at once, both their wands illuminating their surroundings.

As he guided her through the house, she noticed several things about the home that gave her a glance into the personal life of her potions professor. For example— _surprisingly_ —hundreds of books stacked up the walls and cluttered the wooden floors. She read some of the spines, and apart from the occasional Dark Arts book, she spotted some classics written by Muggles:  _The Pickwick Papers, A Tale of Two Cities, Wuthering Heights…_ Harmony wondered if he had as many books as she did in her own library at home.

She noticed many similarities between here and the Riddle mansion. For one, both places preferred the obscurity of darkness. Spinner's End was somewhat tidier than Voldemort's home, like Snape had more time to do some housework in his free time. Like the Riddle mansion, paintings and tapestries decorated the walls, most of which presented dark events from the past. It unnerved her how similar Master and servant were to each other.

They entered a room at the far end of the home Harmony figured was his personal potion room. A cauldron big enough to fit a person inside took up the center of the room. On the walls were floor-to-ceiling shelves full of vials and canisters containing liquids and solids of all kinds. Peering closer Harmony noticed some contents still twitching inside. She blanched and quickly moved on. Snape went straight to a pantry on one side of the room. She stood at his elbow and looked past him. It contained all of his potion ingredients, and it was completely disheveled. Broken glass littered the ground with vials tipped over on their sides, pouring out their substances.

"Someone's been here," Harmony said quietly. She looked up at Snape, noticing his eyes were ablaze with fury.

"How could I have been so foolish," he muttered angrily under his breath, "I should have been more careful." He stepped inside, ignoring the glass shattering beneath his boots and began rummaging through the potion ingredients.

"What are you doing?" Harmony asked after he searched a couple shelves.

"Inventory," he replied without pausing his work.

"What have you found so far?"

"Some are missing, yes," Snape said, bending to his knees to search the bottom shelves. "My boomslang skin, fluxweed…knotgrass." He opened a wooden box, peering inside and he growled, "Lacewing flies are gone as well."

Harmony understood. "Polyjuice potion," she whispered, leaning against the door frame.

"Correct," he said and got to his feet with a heavy sigh.

"Who would be desperate enough for Polyjuice potion to steal it?"

"Oh, I can think of a few," he said, glaring at her.

She knew he was speaking of second year when she stole ingredients from his store at Hogwarts in order to turn her, Harry, and Ron into Slytherin students. But she looked at him innocently, deciding it was probably best she didn't reply.

"Obviously it was someone who knows where you live," she commented.

"Yes," Snape concurred, stepping out of the potion pantry, "unfortunately."

"Why?"

"Think about it," he said, looking down at her. "Whom besides Dumbledore and your lot did I spend most my time with?"

Harmony's brown eyes widened. "Death Eaters."

Suddenly there was a loud thump somewhere in the house. Both of them spun around and pointed their wands at another door leading out to the rest of the house.

"Death Eaters who may still be snooping," he muttered.

Harmony's heart quickened as she listened at Snape's elbow for anymore sounds. After a moment they heard slow footsteps approaching the room.

Snape extended his wand arm straight at the door. "Show yourself."

Harmony flinched when the door handle clicked and then it slowly opened with one long spine-tingling creak. A middle-aged man in a black suit stepped in. He stared at Snape silently with black beady eyes. Then his eyes turned to Harmony and he smiled, revealing rows of crooked black teeth.

Strong arms came out of nowhere and wrapped around Harmony, making her drop her wand. When she called out, Snape whirled around to her. The beady-eyed man shot a spell which Snape skillfully deflected.

"Fighting us would be unwise," the man told Snape in a deep voice as smooth as sandpaper.

Harmony looked down at the arm wound tightly around her. The man wore a dark cloak and one sleeve had ridden up while she struggled, revealing a black tattoo against the pale skin of his forearm.

"Who are you?" Snape inquired without lowering his wand.

The man in the black suit lifted a sleeve with his wand showing his own snake and skull Dark Mark. "My name's Mag, Magnus Crotchet." He nodded his head of short-cropped brown hair to the man holding Harmony. "The man there is Marek." His black eyes scrutinized Harmony. "And she's coming with us, where she belongs."

A flash of red wand light filled the room, when it dispersed Snape was on his knees, frozen. Harmony gasped, looking for her wand down at her feet. Mag nodded his head to the man holding Harmony. The man called Marek grasped her shoulders and turned her around to face him. His long fingers began undoing the front clasps of her cloak.

Harmony twisted away, but his grasp remained firm. "Get your hands off me!"

"Leave her alone!" Snape shouted.

Mag said soothingly, "We're not going to hurt you, love. We would never even think about harming  _you_."

Harmony focused herself in to what the Serpentine charm felt; it hardly tingled. She ceased her struggling reluctantly. "He's right," she groaned. "They won't hurt me, at least not yet."

As she let him do his work, she took her chance to look him over. He was tall; that was the most obvious thing, and it made her more reluctant to fight him off. The hood of his cloak was up and the bottom half of his face was covered in black. What she could see clearly were locks of dark hair teasing into very eerie-looking eyes that set Harmony on edge. They were dark brown but bigger than normal, showing very little white and giving him the permanent appearance of staring at her intently.

With her cloak aside, he undid the front of her black shirt with nimble, experienced fingers. He widened the neck and forced it away from her body, baring her shoulders to the men. When that was done, he stopped.

"Let's see then," Mag said excitedly.

The man with wide dark-brown eyes grasped her bare shoulders and turned her around to face his accomplice. Harmony felt her Serpentine charm slithering its way over her left shoulder, across her chest, and over to the right.

"Ah," Mag sighed in satisfaction. "Beautiful."

Harmony glared at him as he let himself run his beady eyes over her. He tore himself away from her to look at Snape, extending his wand closer. "We understand you were only protecting the heir, much appreciated by the way." He grinned, showing them his horrible black teeth. "But she's in better hands now, so you best leave us alone."

"She is not going anywhere," Snape said from his knees. "She needs to be on the run to keep away from the Ministry."

"Where she  _needs_  to be," Mag said, his voice growing impatient, "is where she can grow stronger. She still has much to learn about the ways of the Dark Lord."

Snape sneered up at him, "The Dark Lord will be dead within the month. Only a fool would deny that. The Ministry will decide to execute him at Menkar."

Mag had heard enough and he sent the heel of his boot into the side of Snape's head. Snape keeled over, unconscious. Mag straightened his black suit jacket and strode over to Harmony. Marek had released her so she could fix her clothing. When she had her cloak back on, she instantly surged energy in her core, ready to release it on her enemies. But before she was prepared, Mag shot a clammy hand to her throat; not constricting, but uncomfortable.

He clicked his tongue. "Now-now, we know about that trick of yours,  _Cascadia_ , or some other." He waged a finger at her warningly.

"Good," Harmony said, a smile forcing its way on her lips, "then you know I can do this." She let go the energy in her core of the  _Cascadia_  like a burst of lightning. Mag's hand was instantly gone, and she could hear him swearing as he flew through the air. His body slammed into a nearby wall, his arms and legs flailing around like a rag doll. She spun around and saw Marek had also flown and landed on a dusty chair.

Harmony didn't wait to see if they were conscious or not. She sprinted to Snape, who was still out cold on the ground, and she grabbed his ankle. She Disapparate the both of them with a  _snap,_  and they left Spinner's End behind.


	13. Chapter 13

Trees as thin as spaghetti contracted and condensed until their trunks were as thick as pillars. Their leaves, florescent green in the sunlight, were blurry forms up above until they sharpened to the point Harmony could make out each of their heart shaped bodies. When she had Apparated Snape and herself, she had fallen backward and landed her head on a boulder making lights dance behind her eyes.

Why she was  _never_  able to make a stable Apparition landing was  _beyond_  her.

Harmony propped on her elbows, waited for the nausea to pass, and sat up. She was resting on a bed of dry leaves which crunched beneath her weight when she moved. With a look around she saw she was surrounded by trees with no ending in sight; over to the side she saw Snape, motionless. She groaned as she stood and stumbled over to the potions professor.

"Sir," she said, she grunted when she grasped his shoulders and moved him onto his back. "Oh," when she looked down on his face it was covered in mud having landed face down in the ground.  _It rather suits him_ , Harmony thought jokingly, giving some consideration to leave the mud. But after a moment her guilt won over and she wiped away the dirt with the edge of his cloak. While she worked, her scrubbing had irritated Snape and he quickly snapped out of his spell. He was faster to sit up and question his surroundings.

"Where are we?" He looked around, his dark shiny eyes finding Harmony's.

She stood, wiping dirt from her hands. "We're in the forest between Shell cottage and town."

His eyes widened and he looked up at her furiously. "Near Shell cottage? Have you gone mad? This place could have been crawling with Ministry officials!" He quickly moved to his wiry feet. "They could be scouring the forest as we speak! Has your intelligence left you?" He looked her over questioningly.

"I'm sorry," she said, although she felt she shouldn't be the one apologizing since she was the one who had helped them escape the Deatheaters, Mag and Marek, when he couldn't. "I couldn't stop myself from coming here. My mind has been on Shell cottage a lot lately and it came to mind when I thought of a destination, but at the last moment I knew I had to take us somewhere safer." She waved her hands about. "So I brought us here; I camped here for a day or two after the battle at Hogwarts."

Snape grunted, glancing around. When he was assured no one was around, he quickly whipped out his wand and set charms around their circle of trees to keep from outsiders hearing or seeing them. When he was finished, and his temper subdued, he said, "So you two stuck to the countryside while on the run, hm?"

"Excuse me?" Harmony asked, "'you two'?"

He rose an eyebrow at her while he slipped his wand into his cloak, "You and the Dark Lord, after you Apparated yourselves from Hogwarts."

"Oh," she suddenly remembered she hadn't told him, or anyone else for that matter, what had happened after the battle at Hogwarts. All everyone knew was that she had left Hogwarts with Voldemort, so they assumed she was with him. Anyone could figure that out. "Yeah," she said meekly. She winced at him waiting for the next dreaded question she knew had to come next: so how did Voldemort lose his memory?

But the question didn't come. Snape went about setting up camp, starting a fire. He looked up at her from beneath black bangs and asked, "You wouldn't happen to have anything useful in that sac of yours, would you?"

"Er," she dropped her bag on the ground and opened it, rummaging through her contents. "Not unless you're going to a party or need some reading material." She showed him her Slytherin dress and book.

Snape produced a money bag from his cloak and began counting his galleons. "Which book?" he asked.

"Horcruxes," Harmony said, staring at Snape without blinking, watching his reaction. He looked up at her slowly. She continued, "I'm in the process of doing some research on how to split my soul into millions of pieces, all the while planning to take over the world."

The forest was suddenly dead quiet as though every forest creature and insect had stopped to raise their eyebrows at her questioningly. He showed no reaction, which, for Severus Snape, was a large reaction indeed. He blinked.

Harmony scowled, "Kidding." She stuffed her contents back into her sac. When Snape still hadn't moved, she looked at him sharply. "Didn't you hear me? I said I was kidding."

"You better be," he said, his voice deadly. "If you think that is something to laugh about, you are gravely mistaken."

"I know, I was only joking," Harmony said, feeling foolish. "I was just tired of having to lie to everyone all the time. I thought perhaps I could try a different approach."

Snape sighed, sitting back on his haunches and pinched the bridge of his large nose.

"Sorry, I was just trying to lighten the mood," Harmony mumbled under her breath. After a moment she said, "But it is a book on Horcruxes, I kind of stole it from Voldemort's-"

"Stop," Snape interrupted, holding up a pale hand. "I don't want to know how you got it."

Harmony nodded, "Right." She handed him the book when he held out a hand to her. He flipped through it while Harmony fed the fire with her wand. When Snape grunted she asked, "What?"

He held up the book, showing her the inside cover on the first page. At the center of the page was a stamp with the Hogwarts crest.

"Did he mention this was originally Hogwarts school property?" He looked down at it wonderingly, "I bet you this was the very first book on Horcruxes he read as a student." He glanced up at her, "Just think, perhaps if this book never had been published the Dark Lord would not be who he is today."

"You really think that?" Harmony asked, looking at the book in his hands.

He shrugged. "It is quite a thought, though, isn't it?" He handed her back the book.

She took it in her hands and babbled as she put it back in her bag, "If this book never had been published—and Voldemort never really became who he is—then he and I would've never met." She mulled this over in her mind, befuddled with the prospect that every little choice made greatly affected the future. For a moment she wondered what her life would be like if she'd never met Voldemort.

"You look sad," Snape interjected her thoughts, and she noticed he had been watching her.

She met his eyes, but said nothing.

After a minute he looked away and their conversation was forgotten. When Harmony was settled on her cloak in front of the conjured flame that hung in the air between them, Snape brought matters back to the present.

"We will need to move to different locations each day, perhaps several locations a day." He ignored Harmony's grumbling. "So if you can think of good, well-isolated places around that would help us greatly."

She looked over the fire at him sheepishly. "I've never really traveled much in my life, except to France with my parents a while ago, but I can't Apparate the both of us to France, it's so far." She thought a moment, "Though, I did come across several inns around the area that are pretty vacant of people, we could look there."

"Tomorrow," Snape agreed.

"It would be nice to have a bed to sleep in for once," Harmony said, thinking about one bed in particular she spent many nights in at the Riddle mansion. Voldemort's family had been extremely wealthy and their furniture and possessions were nothing short of extravagant. Sleeping in his bed was like sleeping among clouds of green velvet. As Harmony settled down in her cloak in the leaves her mind wandered as she let the flicker of the fire ease her. She recalled one night in particular she spent with him; she was still new at having to share his bed, an intimate fact that made a blush creep into her cheeks even now. She had been woken by his stirrings while he slept, no doubt having another nightmare. She comforted him, but she accidentally fell asleep with her arm around his chest. Before she drifted off to sleep she had felt his hand caress up the length of her arm that rested on him. His hand had curled around her shoulder, touching her in a way that once made her skin crawl. But that seemed forever ago; now her skin itched that very moment for the same touch. In her mind's eye she could just imagine looking over at him in the bed and his lips opening to speak—

"Harmony," a man whispered.

Harmony gasped, sitting up quickly. She had been drifting off to sleep when the voice sounded as though it spoke directly in her ear. She looked over at Snape between the flickers of the flames. He was scribbling on a parchment with a small quill and looked up at her when she sprung up from her cloak.

"Did you say my name?" she asked.

He shook his head and went back to writing his notes. "Bad dream?"

"No," Harmony explained, "I was just falling asleep when I heard someone speak my name."

"I heard nothing."

"It's silly I suppose," Harmony said tucking a stray hair behind her ear thoughtfully, "but the voice sounded like Lord Voldemort's."

This got Snape's attention and his eyes looked up at her from his work.

"Perhaps I was just daydreaming," Harmony whispered.

"You dream of the Dark Lord often?"

She looked at him out of the corner of her eye as though convinced to confess a deep secret. "Only recently," she whispered. She moved so she faced him and the fire, crossing her legs in front of her. "Just last night I dreamt he came to Shell cottage. It seemed so _real_."

"What happened?"

"Er," Harmony immediately recalled Voldemort's lips on her neck. "He spoke to me. He talked about his family gathering."

"Death eaters," Snape added.

"Right. He said for me to stop hiding and," she shivered, "that he was searching for me." She hugged her knees up to her chest, staring into the fire.

"Paranoia?" Snape implied.

"I'm not paranoid!" Harmony scoffed. He raised a black eyebrow at her and she looked away. "Maybe a little, but the dream was too real. It was unlike any other dream I ever had before. It was so clear, like-"

"A vision," Snape finished.

"Yes."

"Hm," Snape nodded, "and when did these vision-like dreams begin?"

"Oh," Harmony thought a moment, "I'd say about two weeks after the Battle of Hogwarts, perhaps before."

"They may have some kind of Seer importance. I'd keep track of these dreams if I were you, in case they add up to something."

Harmony rolled her eyes, remembering how she had failed Divination classes. "I have no Seer ability, trust me."

They fell into a lapse of silence while she watched him write.

"What have you been working on?" she asked.

He smoothed out the paper on his knee, "List of ingredients I still had in my pantry at Spinner's End."

"You don't really want to go back there, do you?"

"I never go anywhere without some ingredients."

"Do you plan to make a potion for us?"

"That is precisely what I am trying to figure out." His eyes scanned over the parchment. "If we mean to avoid the Ministry affectively we need more than our two legs, we need to consider changing our appearance."

"Like Polyjuice potion."

"Yes, but with my Polyjuice ingredients stolen I have to buy more, but I don't have enough," he patted his money purse, and then nodded his head to her sac. "Unless you have Gringotts hidden in that bag of yours, we need to think of other means to change our appearance with what we have."

"I know a few glimmer spells," Harmony said. "But they're hardly as affective as a Polyjuice potion."

"They will have to do for now."

Harmony rocked back onto her elbow feeling her tummy rumble, she hadn't had any breakfast or lunch that day. She swallowed, trying to ignore the pain. Listening to the crackle of the fire, her thoughts drifted to other things.

"Is this all I have to look forward to," she asked softly.

"I'm sorry," he asked looking up at her questioningly.

"Is this what the rest of my life is going to be like," she asked, "always on the run, always on the defense and never on the offense, always looking for the next opportunity to change my appearance…always running." She shook her head to herself thoughtfully.

He narrowed his eyes at her, "For now, yes, you do have to keep running, if you value your life whatsoever." He paused, pursing his lips, "You want me to leave you? You want to avoid the entire Ministry, all the Death eaters—the entire world, for that matter— by yourself? Then you go right ahead. I will not stop you from leaving." He watched Harmony as she picked at a loose thread in her black cloak. "If this is what the rest of your life is going to be like, I don't know, nor does it matter. Look at me," he demanded. Harmony's eyes flickered up to him, "Nothing matters right now but tomorrow; where we'll be  _tomorrow_ , not the next day or the day after that. Do you understand me, Miss Granger?"

She stared at him hard when he used her name. It sounded strange hearing it; almost like it was new to her ears.

"You understand?" he asked again, his eyes as black as obsidian.

She knew the question had to be rhetorical, but she nodded to her professor anyway feeling moved by his unexpected enthusiasm.

"Yes, sir," she whispered.


	14. Chapter 14

Later that day, Harmony couldn't contain herself a minute longer and told Snape how hungry she was. It was near dinner time and he agreed they both could use something to eat. Harmony had been in too much of a hurry to put any food in her sac before leaving Shell cottage, and their run into trouble at Spinner's End left them no chance to pack essentials. Snape sent her to look for a road and find a traveler who may be interested in a trade. Before leaving, Harmony cast a glimmer spell on her face giving herself the appearance of a middle-aged woman with fiery red hair and green eyes. With Snape's money purse in hand, she set off on her own between the trees.

The glimmer spell would only work for half an hour or less, so Harmony walked at a quick pace, hoping to come across someone soon. Having traveled these woods before, she found one of the main roads quickly. It wasn't long before she spotted someone ahead of her going in the opposite direction away from town. As they approached each other, Harmony noticed it was a trader with a heavy sac piled high on his back. He was a young man who looked to be about in his twenties with a round face and bright eyes. He waved to her cheerfully as she drew closer and she smiled back.

"Evening, miss," he said. "Interested in a trade?"

"Yes, actually, I am," Harmony said, making her voice deeper to match her new womanly appearance. "Do you have any food?"

"Yes ma'am, I do."

"What do you have?"

"Um," his face scrunched up, but he broke out into a dazzling smile, "I forgot, just a moment." He dropped his large back pack to the ground and untied it to rummage through. "I'm a bit new to the trading business." He unpacked a couple parcels, "The trader, Zeth, is the regular for this road, but he's off leave. Rumor is he's working with the Ministry. Good for him, I say. That certainly has better pay than this."

Harmony's ears perked up. "Excuse me, did you say Zeth?"

"That's the man," he looked up at her from his sac. "Why? You know him?" When she nodded he went on, "Well, I'm not surprised. Zeth was always one for the ladies." He smiled up at her, "Especially the pretty ones."

She returned a smile, but her thoughts were on the man, Zeth. So he wasn't a Death eater, he wasn't a Ministry official. He was just some small-town trader.

The trader handed her a couple parcels of dried meat and cheese. "Have you heard anything about him lately?" he asked, "His friends in town are all interested."

"Last I heard he was on the hunt for Harmony Hangleton," Harmony said, suppressing the coldness from her voice. "I believe he intends to turn her in to the Ministry for the reward money."

The trader laughed. "Ah, that persistent little bugger. He always thought he was meant for something bigger. Well, I wouldn't be surprised if his persistence did pay off and he caught that woman."

"Don't count on it," Harmony said through gritted teeth, slapping a galleon in his open palm. She turned away from the trader and strode away. Her mind was on why a small town trader would suddenly leave their regular life behind to do something so large a task as hunting down the world's most wanted criminal. He undoubtedly wanted the reward money, but what made him so different from all the others that wanted to catch her?

Harmony looked ahead of her down the road. In her mind, she thought about where it led to. If she kept walking she would eventually meet a fork in the road, one of which would eventually lead to Shell cottage. The trader had said Zeth was the regular trader for this road. Harmony's mind suddenly connected the dots and she understood. Zeth had to have been around Shell cottage the day she ran away from Voldemort. He must've seen her and realized his chance to hunt her down. That was what gave him the advantage over all the others; he knew where she was. And now he had the Ministry on his side to help him bring her down.

Harmony felt a tingling sensation all over her face and she knew the glimmer spell was wearing off. She moved off to the side of the dirt road and found the path back to Snape. A little ways away from the circle of trees where she knew their campsite was, she saw nothing at all: no Snape, no fire, not even any foot prints in the leaves. But as she walked closer, she felt herself pass the barrier like walking through a light waterfall and Snape appeared, sitting by the fire. When he looked at her she held up the parcels of food.

"Dinner," she said, and she prepared their meal, splitting it up into portions so to save some for later.

"Did you run into any trouble?" Snape asked before he took a bite of meat.

Harmony shook her head and swallowed before saying, "No, but I did find out the man that's been hunting me, Zeth, used to work around here."

"Who is he?"

"Zeth used to work as a trader on the main roads over there. Like I said, I spent much of my time hiding in these parts, and I suppose he spotted me one day and quit his job to hunt me down." She mumbled, "Good luck with that."

"I wouldn't take it too lightly."

"I escaped him once," Harmony explained. "He tracked me to one of the inns nearby and I fought him off. I can do it again."

Snape sat back and looked up at the moon rising over the trees. "Perhaps it isn't such a good idea to stay at any inns."

"No," Harmony said quickly. "Please, I just stayed at that one inn for too long. It was my fault. I'd really like it if we could have a roof over our heads for once."

Snape pursed his beige lips. "I'll consider it tomorrow morning." He had taken off his cloak and spread it on a bed of leaves. He lay down, closing his eyes. "We should get our rest. Who knows how far we'll have to travel tomorrow?"

Harmony finished her dinner and doused the fire to a smolder with her wand. She set her sac at the head of her cloak to serve as a pillow; it wasn't too uncomfortable with her Slytherin dress inside. She lay back with a sigh and gazed up at the stars which were increasing by the millions as dusk turned to night. Back home she hardly saw any stars in the sky because of light pollution from the cities nearby. It was a comfort to believe the stars were the same wherever she was no matter how lost she felt or eccentric everything became; it was nice to know at least something never changed. Her eyes drooped with the heaviness of sleep and she watched the stars twinkle between her eyelashes. She wondered if wherever Menkar—the wizard asylum—was Voldemort could look out his window and see the same stars and moon, and although he must not remember her, hopefully he wondered whether somewhere out there somebody was thinking about him.

A twig snapped off to Harmony's left, making her gasp and sit up. When she looked around she saw nothing but the shadows of the trees. Perhaps the evening darkness was playing tricks on her mind, but it looked like one of the shadows weaved between the trees…as though it were made out of a cloak drifting in the breeze.

"Who's there?" she said. A part of her already knew who it was and she inched forward anxiously, her eyes searching the darkness unflinching.

The shadow approached where Harmony guessed the barrier was. Sure enough it was a black cloak draped over a head and broad shoulders. Both arms lifted and pushed back the hood of the cloak, revealing their face. Voldemort's pale completion shone in the moon as though giving off its own celestial light. Harmony's mind spun and she realized she hadn't taken a breath since she spotted him in the shadows. She forced herself to calm and take a deep breath. She sat forward on her cloak, crossing her legs before her. Voldemort took a step closer, his blue eyes never leaving her. His feet hardly made noise over the leaves. He loomed over Harmony, the moon shining behind his head like a halo. He bent to his knees, sitting on his haunches. He took a moment to look her over. Extending an arm, he reached a long pale finger out and traced her jawline softly. Harmony pressed her head into his touch so his hand caressed her cheek.

Harmony dared not to blink in fear he might disappear the moment her eyes were closed. "You're just a dream," she said. Voldemort's piercing eyes flickered to her lips when she spoke.

"I am real," he said, making Harmony's heart jump to her throat.

"You couldn't be," she said, shaking her head. Voldemort's hand fell from her face. "I know I was asleep when you came to me last night," she said, "and if you were really here and escaped from Menkar then I would have surely heard about it—" She stopped when he placed a finger on her lips.

"I am not here in body, but in mind." He moved and sat on her cloak next to her. She leaned into him and felt his warmth.

"But this is my dream, no matter how real it feels," Harmony said, looking up at him. "Dreams come from deep within the subconscious. I'm only seeing what I want to see; if you were really here you'd probably be trying to kill me."

Voldemort laughed, a sound rich within his chest. "Kill you," he mumbled, "how amusing."

She was annoyed by his mocking, but she couldn't help but crack a smile. "Am I wrong?" she asked. "The last time we saw each other in person your intentions were quite obvious."

"I was angry, inconsolable. I don't take being lied to easily, no matter how important you are to me."

"I never lied to you," Harmony said and after a pause finished, "I just didn't tell you the whole truth. There's a difference."

"You are difficult," Voldemort said with an edge to his voice. "A difficult woman indeed, full of false intentions and hidden agendas."

Harmony snorted, "You make me sound like a villain." She looked him straight in the eyes. "Those days are over. I'm done lying."

He nodded and watched her silently.

Harmony stared back and a moment of silence passed between them. "This is usually the part where you say 'I won't lie to you anymore either.'"

Voldemort narrowed his eyes, thinking. After a moment he shook his head, "No," he said, "No, my lying days are not yet over."

Harmony restrained giving him a dirty look and she said, "That's not what my subconscious wanted you to say, that's for sure. If I didn't dream that up then how and why are you here?"

He didn't reply right away, but looked around their surroundings, "Where are you?"

Harmony frowned, "What?"

He faced her again, setting his blue eyes on her. "Where are you right now?"

"Er-"

"It is not a difficult question," he added with his voice harsher than before. "Don't you know where you are? Just answer the question."

Harmony was taken aback by his sudden earnestness. "Er," she glanced around, "I'm in a forest, of course."

He scowled, "You know that is not what I meant. Give me a name, where is this forest?"

"I don't understand," Harmony said falteringly. "I'm near Shell cottage, so?"

Suddenly he grasped her shoulders and shook her, "Harmony, wake up, Harmony."

"W-what are you doing? Stop."

"Wake up!"

The forest, along with Voldemort, began to fade away, but the pressure on her shoulders didn't cease. She was given a sudden jolt and she opened her eyes to see Snape's face above her.

"Wake up!" he said. His face was frantic as he gave her another shake, jarring her head.

"M-what," she mumbled, placing her hands on his chest to push him away and stop his shaking. All he had to say was one word and it woke Harmony up in an instant.

"Aurors."

Harmony quickly sat up and both she and Snape began to pack their things. While she was throwing on her cloak, she looked out into the forest and saw countless wand lights like fireflies floating between the trees.

"What do we do?" Harmony asked in a hushed tone.

"It does not matter," Snape said while putting on his own cloak. "We just need to leave."

"Hold it right there!" a voice called out from the mass of wand lights. Dozens of stunning spells illuminated the forest, flying straight for Harmony and Snape. At the last millisecond Snape grasped Harmony's cloak pulling her down and out of the line of fire.

"Get us out of here!" Snape shouted in her ear.

He didn't need to tell her twice. The moment countless more spells went flying through the air, she Apparated them away with a  _snap!_


	15. Chapter 15

"That was my fault," Snape said as they walked side-by-side towards an inn resting on a cliff looking over the ocean. "I was foolish enough not to replenish the shielding charm around us before we slept. It must have worn out through the night."

"It's my fault, too," Harmony assured him. "I should've remembered something as important as that, but I got too relaxed. Being in the middle of the forest seemed like a safe enough place." She added quietly, "I guess I was wrong."

"Any ideas as to how they discovered us?"

"The trader perhaps," Harmony suggested, "Maybe he was suspicious of me and warned Aurors to go check us out." She paused, "And I may have been a little obvious." She thought about how angered she was when the trader told her he believed Zeth would be successful in capturing her.

"Remind me not to send you out on your own anymore."

"It won't happen again," Harmony said defensively. "Like I said, I just got a little too relaxed, that's all."

"You could have cost us our lives," Snape said angrily, "if your mutterings in your sleep hadn't woken me we would be in the hands of the Ministry at this moment."

"What mutterings?" Harmony asked, looking over at him as they walked.

"You were talking in your sleep. More dream-like visions?"

He looked down at her and she turned her gaze straight ahead.

"Yes," she replied. "Voldemort came to me again."

"Anything in particular I should know about?"

Harmony thought about her conversation with the Dark Lord, trying to remember anything out of the ordinary. "He kept asking me about my location."

Snape stopped in his tracks and looked at her attentively, "Your location?"

She nodded. "Several times—lightly at first, but the more I hesitated to tell him the more irritated he became."

"Anything else he mentioned?"

"Um," she thought a moment, "we chatted about some…personal stuff. He mentioned something about not being there with me in body but in mind." She crinkled her nose. "A bit of a strange thing to dream." She watched the expression on Snape's face for a minute. "You're concerned."

"Of course I am," he scoffed, "It is not every day one has visions of the Dark Lord."

"They're dreams," Harmony corrected him. "He only comes when I'm asleep or very tired."

"When you are most vulnerable," Snape said without looking at her.

Harmony frowned at him.

He began walking again and she followed, "Only once have I encountered one such as yourself that dreamt of the Dark Lord, and they were for dangerous reasons."

Harmony felt her body go cold and she whispered, "Harry Potter." She saw Snape nod out of the corner of her eye.

"Potter was being sent dreams by the Dark Lord himself to make him see what he wanted him to see—to lie to him."

Butterflies danced in her stomach, making her feel giddy. "You think Voldemort could be sending me dreams," she said breathlessly.

"No," Snape said, "That would be impossible; the Dark Lord does not remember anything."

"I know," she mumbled.

"But  _someone_  may be sending you dreams, someone working against you in order to get inside your head. You said so yourself: the Dark Lord has been asking you where your location is. Well, someone could be trying to find you that way, to stop you from running."

Harmony's heart drooped from bitter disappointment. At the same time, she felt angry at being taken advantage of. Some stranger out in the world was trying to get inside her mind. Still, she hated to let go of the thought that Voldemort had some doing in her vision-like dreams. He just seemed so  _real_. It was very hard to believe he could be a recreation by someone other than himself.

They approached the inn not long after. It was a small building that looked centuries old with the paint chipped by the constant rush of the salty breeze. Their only source of light was by the yellow glow from a kerosene lamp hung above the entrance. Snape didn't knock but strode right in with Harmony at his heels. She was eager to leave the cool draft and go inside to a nice warm fire and bed. Small tables were set up throughout the first floor all with little candles handsomely lit giving the inn a dreamy feel. None of the tables were occupied, so she and Snape were supposedly the only customers.

The innkeeper, a quiet middle-aged man, stood at the bar with head in hands, asleep. Snape stood before him at the bar, but the innkeeper didn't stir. Harmony tugged on his robes and Snape looked over at her. She pointed at a silver service bell off to the side. Snape slapped his palm, harder than necessary, on the bell making the ring reverberate through the inn as loud at a gunshot. The innkeeper jumped a foot in the air, tripping backward.

"One room," Snape said, glancing down at the man impatiently. Harmony tugged on his robes again and he looked back at her seeing her hold up two fingers. He shook his head, "Not two, I'm short on money." He ignored Harmony's grumbling, and sighed at the innkeeper who stumbled to his feet.

The man looked at Snape reproachfully. His eyes moved over Harmony—looking her up and down—and he looked back at Snape with tripled distaste. "It's ten sickles a night," he said snidely. "A galleon plus meals and," he took in Harmony's disheveled hair and rosy cheeks, "it's an extra sickle to ensure you aren't disturbed."

Harmony now understood the man's instant dislike of Snape and she quickly intervened, "Excuse me! I'm not a—"

"We are not staying long," Snape interrupted giving her a fierce glare. He slapped two galleons on the bar counter in front of the innkeeper. "We will accept that offer price in assurance we will not be bothered."

Harmony's face grew beet red. The look the innkeeper gave her could have made her sink between the wooden floorboards in embarrassment.

"This way," the man said, walking out from behind the bar counter towards the stairs.

Harmony followed behind Snape, glowering the whole way. They were given the first room, directly to the left at the top of the stairs. The innkeeper dropped the keys in Snape's outstretched hand and said as he turned to leave, "Enjoy your night."

Harmony bit her lip to keep from exasperating in humiliation. Snape opened the door and they stepped inside. The first thing Harmony noticed was a wide window looking out over the ocean, and just below the window was a cozy bed with quilt.  _Just one_  cozy bed. Harmony nearly laughed at the ridiculousness of the situation, and she turned to Snape when he closed the door behind them.

"I hope you like sleeping on the floor," she said, grinning, which slipped when Snape didn't return the smile. She sighed. "Kidding… _I guess_."

"I hope you do not mind."

Harmony waved a hand at him, "It's fine, I suppose. I'm used to sharing."

"No, I mean sleeping on the floor."

"W-what?" Harmony frowned at him.

"I hope you do not mind sleeping on the floor."

Harmony's mouth hung open.  _Was he serious?_  She hesitated, not knowing how to respond.

After a moment of unpleasant and awkward silence Snape replied with a smile,  _or was it a sneer?_ "I am being humorous."

"Oh," Harmony said, choking out a couple curt laughs, "You were trying to be funny, that's…that's weird."

Snape's face fell, and he dropped his few belongings on the floor. As they unpacked their things, Snape spoke to Harmony, "Back to our conversation about your visions."

"Dreams."

"Yes. I—so to speak—helped Potter deal with his dreams in order to close his mind from being invaded, called Occlumancy. I can teach you to control your mind when it is at its weakest. You will be able to get rid of the Dark Lord that way—"

"No!" Harmony shouted, spinning around to face him, her eyes wide. She surprised even herself from the sudden outburst.

Snape froze from her reaction; his eyes narrowed as he stared at her in confusion.

Harmony quickly thought of an excuse. "These dreams could be quite informative. They might help us. He told me about how his Death Eaters are gathering. He might reveal more."

"But if someone is forcing these dreams into your mind, like a Death Eater, you accepting it would only be giving them what they want: to control you. You  _must_  be on your guard."

Fine," Harmony said, "I will, but I don't want to get rid of the dreams just yet."

Snape pointed a long finger at her, "Next time you receive more dreams, you better be sure to keep your mouth shut on any information about our location, you hear me?"

Harmony restrained giving him a dirty look. What gave him the right to boss her around? If she were with Voldemort right now Snape would be the mud on the bottom of her boot. Voldemort didn't make her to take orders, but to give them. She was pupil to Lord Voldemort himself; wouldn't that make her one of the most powerful witches in the world?

Harmony lifted her chin to Snape knowing he was oblivious to her dark thoughts. A small voice in her head said she could take him in dueling, but using violence to solve problems was never a part of who she was.

She nodded, "I hear you."

Snape wanted to get a couple more hours of sleep, and Harmony wanted a couple more moments with Voldemort, so they positioned themselves in the snug little bed. Snape wasn't generous with space and Harmony was forced as far to her side as possible. One arm and one leg might as well have been the only parts of her body in the bed, the rest sprawled over the side. She didn't mind really; she could have been resting on a bed of dragon teeth and she could have cared less, just as long as sleep came and  _he_ appeared.

Snape snored. That was a whole new experience for her altogether. His abnormally large nose didn't make just his voice nasally; his snore came out in high-pitched squeaks giving Harmony the impression of a fly constantly buzzing about her head. The first time Snape exhaled in his sleep, Harmony swatted at the air. Then she found out the noise came from Snape and she groaned knowing she was going to have to put up with it until morning.

Eventually her mind drifted, fleeting from thought to thought, and she sank into dream world. Images flashed behind her eyelids beginning with the distrustful look on Harry's face, to Snape telling her his Polyjuice potion ingredients were gone, to seeing Voldemort extending a hand to touch her face, to the innkeeper's disgusted look towards her and Snape. They appeared like rapid fire until everything stopped and she was once again lying in bed at the inn. She stared up at the ceiling above her, observing each groove of the wood slats in the darkness. Then it occurred to her the room was too quiet. Snape's snores were gone. She turned her head on her pillow to look over at her professor. She was met with a pair of striking blue eyes, making her gasp. She scooted away from Voldemort in bed. His eyebrows knitted together and she looked away.

"What is wrong?" he asked, and she felt his hand grasp her chin, turning her face toward him again. His touch burned like dry ice.

"Don't ask it," she said.

"Ask what?" he said without releasing her chin.

"Where I am right now," she replied, "because I won't tell you."

He chuckled, "Why not?"

She tugged her chin away and they sat up in bed. "Snape warned me you are just a recreation from an imposter who is trying to get into my head to control me. I'll admit I don't want to believe it, but I'm willing to take any precaution."

Voldemort inched closer with his blue eyes intensely set on her. "No," he said, his deep voice earnest. "Snape is being a fool. He does not know me like you do. No living person is as familiar with my mind and my body as you are." He curled his long fingers under her chin, "So you tell me,  _Harmony_ , am I real or not because only  _you_  would know."

Harmony bit the inside of her cheek while forced to stare Voldemort in his unflinching eyes. She thought a moment. "I will ask you a question only the real Lord Voldemort would know the answer to."

His jaw flexed and a small smile cracked on his lips. He was up for the challenge.

Harmony thought of a moment she and Voldemort were guaranteed to be alone. Shell cottage. She recalled some of their conversations before she forced herself to erase his memory. "When we were at Shell cottage you told me about seeing your future in that room at Riddle mansion. What did you tell me you saw?"

His smile stretched and his eyes went far away at the memory. "I had only thought that room to be a family legend until you found it. After that, I was desperate to get inside. I had half expected to see myself ruler of the world; I was sorely disappointed when it turned out I was far from right. I was walking in a graveyard, fog was everywhere, and I found Lucius Malfoy's grave. I will never forget what was engraved upon it: 'Here lies a man wives dream to have and sons dream to be.'" His eyes came back to the present and he looked at Harmony. His hand moved tenderly down her neck and was placed on her chest over her heart. Harmony swore he could feel it pounding against his fingertips. His eyes were fierce with longing. " _I wanted that_ , Harmony. I wanted those words. I felt a desperate need to absorb their meaning, transform them, and somehow make them  _mine_."

Harmony swallowed back a swell of emotions and she said, "I-I don't remember you describing it exactly that way, but…I'll accept that."

He returned a smile. "I do apologize."

"What for?"

"I'm a little more sentimental while dreaming; less control over my actions and all."

Harmony leaned forward until her forehead was resting against his chin. She heard him take a deep inhale of breath as he smelled her hair. "This changes so much," Harmony said, "You're not something I just dreamed up, and you're not some imposter's recreation."

"Yes," he breathed in her hair making it quiver, "that is correct."

Harmony sat back so they looked eye-to-eye. "Which only leaves one option: these dreams are being sent to me and they're being sent by none other than you."

The smile that spread a mile wide on Voldemort's lips confirmed her suspicions. Harmony released a lungful of air covering her face with her hands. "God, that would have terrified me days ago." She looked at him through her fingers. "But it's like every time I'm with you all those terrible thoughts and feelings disappear. I'm a completely different person with you."

"As it is supposed to be," Voldemort said, taking her hands away from her face, "I am empty without my heir. You make me stronger than I ever was before; it is for these reasons you need to return to me and my family." His eyes turned cold, "Whether you like it or not. With time you would understand."

Harmony smiled sadly at him and placed a delicate hand on the side of his face. "I care about you," she said softly, "very much." Then she grabbed the front of his robes in her fist and brought him nose-to-nose. "But I will  _never_ be like you." Harmony felt a weight lift from her chest when she said it, and she realized that was the first time she ever admitted it to his face. She felt a sense of freedom now he knew how she felt.

She had half expected him to grow angry at her confession, but he only smiled. When Harmony released his robes he ironed out the wrinkles with his hands. "With time you would understand," he repeated, the smirk never leaving his face.

Harmony sighed at his lack of leniency. "I'd fight through a whole crowd of Aurors to get to you…but maybe you need to realize that you chose the wrong person to be your heir."

Voldemort watched her silently, his smile slipping some until his expression almost turned sad. For a moment Harmony wondered if he really was considering it, but then his smile returned and he said in a strong voice, "I did not choose wrong." He scrutinized her for a moment. Then he shook his head, "I think you will surprise yourself, Harmony."

"How're you so sure?" Harmony asked raising her eyebrows. How could he know more about her than herself?

"Because," he began with a face that screamed  _I know more than you do_ , "you are not just my heir; you are not just my pupil, or my follower. You are so much more." He placed two long pale hands on her shoulders, implying more pressure than necessary. "You _are_ me."

Harmony frowned, "I don't understand."

"Well, a part of me anyway," he mumbled staring at the air next to her ear. When his eyes focused on her again he said, "Now, Harmony, I want you to do me a favor. I want you to wake up right now and when you do, I want you to get out of bed and leave the bedroom."

"But why?"

He placed a finger over her lips. "And when you do that I want you to walk straight across to the room adjacent, alright? Open the door and go inside."

"You're not making sense."

"I am making myself very plain, Harmony. Just do it."

And with that Harmony opened her eyes: She was on her back looking up at the wood ceiling. She turned her head on the pillow seeing Snape out cold on the pillow next to her. His high-pitched snores once again filled the room. Harmony slowly sat up in bed, pushing back the covers. No thought entered her mind at that moment except Voldemort's instructions, and like a zombie she stood out of bed and left the bedroom. Before stepping into the hallway, she stared at the door across from her. No light peeked out between the cracks; it looked as empty as before. But as Voldemort ordered, she stepped into the hallway and walked up to the door. She heard nothing but dead silence behind it. She wound her fingers around the handle and turned. When it clicked, she pushed and the door opened. The room was similar to her own only instead of having one bed there was two.

Harmony immediately noticed one man occupied each bed. The bed closest to her contained a rugged looking Mag Crochet, whom was seated with his feet hanging over the side. The bed farthest from Harmony rested the cloaked Marek. He had been lying down in bed, but was just sitting up when Harmony entered. It took a moment for the Death Eaters to notice her standing in their doorway. Mag was the first to see her, and he blinked, his eyes going wide with surprise. Marek stared at her, his eerie brown eyes unflinching. Harmony gasped, feeling herself snap back into reality, and she took a faltering step back.

The very moment she spun around to flee, Marek jumped from his bed and sprinted toward her.


	16. Chapter 16

"Get her!" Mag shouted as his stouter self was slower at getting out of bed.

"Snape!" Harmony screamed before flying down the stairs. She felt Marek's fingers graze her shoulder before she leapt down three stairs at a time. A red stunning spell shot by her head, inches from her ear. When Harmony's bare feet landed on the last stair step, she felt up her sleeve for her wand. She whipped it out and sent a spell over her shoulder.

She was sprinting to the door when out of her peripheral vision she saw the innkeeper reading his newspaper behind the counter, "Wands outside!" he shouted without looking up from his paper.

Harmony was out the door a second later, and she was blasted with the cool salty breeze that blew in from the sea. Off to the left was a massive tall grass field and just ahead one hundred yards was a forest. She had a chance to escape if she was nimble enough to race through the dense wood. But she didn't like the thought of keeping her back to a couple of determined Death Eaters. She was going to fight and the open field was the best place for it.

When Harmony placed herself near the center of the field, several more spells had flown by inches away. She tried conjuring a  _Cascadia_ , but nerves kept her from focusing. So when she faced the Death Eaters she was left with nothing but her wand skills—most of which were learned from Voldemort himself, so her abilities were far from lacking. But when she turned to face the men, she wondered if what they saw was an adept witch. She could imagine them taking in everything from her bare feet, wrinkled black shirt, unruly hair waving about her head in the wind like a halo, wisps blowing across her hard, determined eyes. She hoped that when they saw her they didn't see a stubborn seventeen year old teenager, but a woman well used to defending herself. The Death Eater Marek was close behind her, as expected, with Mag striding towards them from the inn. He took his time walking over; he seemed to think they had her, that she wasn't getting away.

Harmony gripped her wand righter, driven to prove just how wrong they were. They weren't forcing her  _anywhere_.

"Get her, Marek," Mag called, standing a couple yards from his accomplice's elbow. "Let's have this hunt done with."

Harmony raised her wand straight at Marek's heart in warning. If he made any move he was going to pay for it. But she was completely unprepared for the spells that suddenly flew at her with lightning speed. He was quick,  _very quick_. But Harmony noticed what he made up for in speed he lacked in power and he conjured them as though halfheartedly. Fortunately, Harmony was both equal in power and speed, so she was lucky to deflect each of his spells, though at the very last second. This lasted a couple minutes: cast a spell, deflect a spell, cast, deflect, cast.

"Enough of this!" Mag called, his face scrunched up in impatience. "Playtime's over! Please just finish her, Marek!"

Even from that distance Harmony could see something change within her opponents wide brown eyes, and he conjured a spell that ignited their surroundings like a flash of lightning. The second Harmony was distracted by the burst of light, he sent a stunning spell at her. The spell hit her in the chest, making the air rush out of her lungs. She fell back, the tall grass rising around her and the sky, pink with dawn, filled her line of vision. For a short moment the air was silent except for the ocean breeze and Harmony watched as a flock of geese soared peacefully across the sky. Then somewhere, she couldn't turn her head to see where, footsteps moved through the grass. The sound came closer and closer until it was almost upon her. Then Marek's dark shadowy form appeared, taking place of the sky like a dark thundercloud. The silent Death Eater's cloak drifted in the wind. His hood had blown back while he ran after her. With the bottom half of his face covered by a black cloth, she saw his longish dark hair falling into his wide brown eyes, which were raptly set upon her. His shoulders rose and fell steadily as he fought to catch his breath.

 _Please_ , Harmony thought, the stunning spell restricting her use of speech.  _Please, please don't do this. Please don't take me_ , she begged as Marek stared down at her.

"Come on!" Mag shouted from somewhere. "Let's grab her and go!" When Marek didn't move Mag laughed rather humorlessly, "I know you fancy the girl, Marek, but there's no time for emotions now. You know what we have to do. The followers need her! She's the heir!"

 _Please, please, please_.

Marek's eyebrows knit together in thought, his eyes moving over her body. Somewhere behind him Mag growled impatiently, then footsteps, "Fine," he called out, "I'll just do it myself, before Severus gives us any trouble." His footsteps—less graceful than Marek's—approached, and he soon appeared in her line of vision, wand drawn. When Mag was standing beside him, it was like Marek woke from a dream. He blinked his wide brown eyes, and before Mag could take a step closer to her, he extended an arm and placed a hand on Mag's suit collar. Marek Apparated the both of them, leaving Harmony alone in the field.

The moment they were gone, the stunning spell lifted from her body and she relaxed into the ground. She sat up and saw Snape striding towards her between the blades of grass. He had their sacs thrown over each shoulder.

As he walked up to her she said, "Voldemort is communicating with his Death Eaters somehow. He knew they were close to us."

"And how exactly do you know this? Your dreams?" he said coolly, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Yes," Harmony said, "In the dream I just had, he told me to go in the room where his Death Eaters happened to be in."

"I thought we agreed these dreams were being sent to you by an imposter!" he said angrily.

"No!" Harmony replied, getting to her feet. "No, I questioned him on what only the true Lord Voldemort would know, and he gave me a sound and detailed description in answer. I know from the bottom of my heart he is who he says he is."

"But," Snape complained pinching the bridge of his nose, " _The Daily Prophet_  was very clear, his memory was wiped clean. Now, unless you are telling me the Ministry lied about all this, how could he send dreams of his normal self when he has no recollection of who he is?"

Harmony pondered, a stray hair blowing into her eyes. "Dreams come from the subconscious, right?" she said. "We dream of things we can't possibly remember in the waking world. So what I'm thinking is, what if somewhere deep in Voldemort's subconscious he remembers everything. From who he was and what he's done, to what he's capable of. What if it was somewhere deep enough where the  _Obliviate_  spell couldn't reach?"

"That is a large 'what if,'" Snape said. "What you are saying is, while he's awake he doesn't remember, but he does while he dreams." He pursed his lips. "It is insane, but …possible."

"You see," Harmony said, a mixture of both excitement and anxiety surging through her belly.

"But it still doesn't explain how he can send you these dreams," Snape said. "Your minds would have to be connected somehow, making them one and the same. The Serpentine charm perhaps?"

"Maybe," Harmony agreed. She shivered when an especially cool breeze blew over her. "Let's get inside."

"You don't think we should find someplace else to stay?"

She shook her head, thinking about Marek Disapparating himself and Mag away from her. "I don't think they'll be back, at least not yet."

When they returned to the inn, Snape requested breakfast be brought to their room. The innkeeper grumbled a reply, disappearing into the kitchen. Within a couple minutes an impatient knock sounded at their door where the innkeeper held a tray of omelets, toast, and juice.

"The Death Eater's reappearance has got me thinking again," Snape said between bites of his food. He sat on the bed while Harmony was cross-legged on the floor using her lap to hold her plate. "We are more desperate than ever to get ingredients for Polyjuice potion or  _some_  concoction which will conceal our true identities. If my Polyjuice ingredients were never stolen, you wouldn't have nearly been abducted a moment ago. We must search for opportunities to make money. We'll make it our first priority. Once we do, we can buy ingredients at Knockturn Alley."

Harmony didn't like the thought of returning to that dreary part of the Wizarding world. "Can't we get ingredients at Diagon Alley just fine?"

"Of course we can," Snape replied. "But at Knockturn we'll be able to hide ourselves better." Snape finished his toast and chased it down with the rest of his juice. "And I do believe pre-concoction Polyjuice potions can only be found in Knockturn Alley; they are very expensive, but we would benefit from them while we wait for our own brew to be made."

Harmony couldn't restrain herself: she raised her hand in the air as though she were back in the classroom. "Question," she said.

Snape's shoulders sagged. "Yes?" he said. He dragged out the "s" making him sound like an irritated snake.

Harmony dropped her hand. "Who are we turning ourselves into? We need to add bits of the person we're going to turn into."

Snape held up a single finger, raising his eyebrows, "Ah and that is one other benefit to doing our shopping in Knockturn Alley: locks of hair and fingernail clippings can be sold just for that purpose."

"That is foul," Harmony said crinkling her nose in disgust.

When they were done eating, Snape gathered their dishes and set them on the tray.

"I am going into town today," Snape said, "to see if there are any money opportunities I can pick up."

"What, like getting a job?" Harmony asked, unable to hold back a smirk. She couldn't imagine Snape doing anything else besides brewing potions. The thought of him working as a bus boy at a restaurant or as a file clerk was just too ridiculous. "I take it I won't be coming along."

"No," Snape said. "Going alone would be less conspicuous; you can stay here. Perhaps you should consider why and how the Dark Lord is sending you dreams. It may help us figure out how to use it to our advantage over the Death Eaters, as well as keeping Voldemort from regaining his full memory."

Harmony was at a loss again; she wasn't sure if she wanted Voldemort to remember everything or not. If she had it her way, he would only regain his memory of her and nothing else. They could live their lives together, just the two of them. But they would both be living a lie. Harmony knew that would be unfair to him, no matter what horrible things he has done. A selfish voice in the back of her mind told her dreams of Voldemort weren't enough; she wanted the real thing: to be able to hold him and feel his warmth for hours on end.

After Snape left, Harmony stood about the room wondering what to do. She eventually sighed, collapsing onto the unmade bed, staring up at the ceiling. She closed her eyes, wondering if she could somehow get herself to fall sleep again, so Voldemort would appear. But maybe that only worked if he was asleep as well in his Menkar cell, like a two way radio. With her hair fanned about her head like a halo of dark blond waves, she focused on her breathing, allowing herself to calm her heart beat and drift away. She didn't really go to sleep, only zoned out for merely a minute, but it was enough to bring forth some kind of reaction.

Harmony's hands were relaxed on her stomach when she felt something brush against her skin as soft as a feather. She didn't open her eyes right away, but pretended she was still asleep. She took a deep breath, inhaling a very familiar smell which conjured images in her mind of Shell cottage. The smell instantly reminded her of Voldemort sleeping in the bed next to her, chest bare, warm sheets pulled up to his waist. Now she felt the bed bow under a light weight on either side of her head, as though someone were placing each hand there. Harmony exhaled, but at the same moment a warm breath blew onto her face, she guessed from only inches away. Still, she kept her eyes closed.

Harmony felt lips brush softly on her cheekbone. That was the place she remembered she had a couple short scars, now only faint white lines. She had received the scars from a certain wicked witch named Bellatrix; the witch had discovered Harmony sleeping in Voldemort's bed and punished her for it. Now Voldemort kissed her on that exact spot as though in apology. She wasn't sure when he lifted his lips away, because the feel of his touch lingered minutes after as though a butterfly were fluttering it wings there.

Even when Voldemort whispered it made her almost jump as though it were as loud as a scream. "You want to know why?" he whispered. "You want to know why we can dream together?" He kissed one cheek like an afterthought. "Well, I have already told you why. You know the answer, Harmony." He kissed her other cheek. "You have known all along. The answer is right under your nose." His lips brushed the tip of her nose. As he spoke again, she felt his breath move down her face until he was speaking directly above her lips. "All you have to do is do what you do best."

Harmony waited impatiently for his lips to meet hers, but it never came. Then suddenly a weight dropped onto her stomach. She grunted under the force, sitting up in bed wide awake.

She opened her eyes, but Voldemort was nowhere to be seen. Harmony looked down at what caused the sudden weight; it was a book which now rested in her lap. She ran her hands over the familiar cover of the book and beneath her fingers shone the title in gold lettering. It was her book on Horcruxes—or more correctly, Voldemort's book on Horcruxes. What was it that he said?  _The answer is right under your nose. All you have to do is do what you do best._  The answer to the latter was simple: she was best at reading, researching, and overall attaining knowledge, which she took to pride. As for the answer being right under her nose…she looked down at the book in her lap. Well, there she was.

Slowly, she curled her fingers around the edge of the cover and opened it. For the very first time since being in possession of the book, she began to read.

Harmony skimmed over the main contents page spotting chapters titled like "The  _Fun_ damentals of Horcruxes," "How to Choose the Object for your Horcrux," and "How to Choose Your Victim." Harmony swallowed wearily at the last one. But one chapter caught her eye particularly: "Horcrux Behaviors." She flipped to the indicated page number. In bold words at the top of the page wrote "Horcrux Behaviors," and just below in bullet point was "on objects."

Harmony became engrossed in her reading. She read ten pages "on objects" and was somewhat surprised it didn't end there but went on about horcrux behavior "on humans." Something about the title sent Harmony on edge. It immediately made her think of Harry. He had told her about having a piece of Voldemort's soul within him and dying in order to get rid of it. Harmony remembered how Harry had described a horcrux: it was when a murder was committed and in doing so splitting the soul, entering an object—or in Harry's case, joining with another human's soul.

Harmony and Harry's stories were connected somehow, and she remembered Snape telling her he knew only one other person who had visions of the Dark Lord sent directly by him, and that was Harry. She realized it wasn't Harry and Harmony who were connected, but Voldemort who was connected to them. Harmony felt her heart race as she continued to read on. She had soon spotted what she expected; a part was written describing how the one who now harbors a piece of the creator's soul has connected minds. They can send each other visions or false thoughts when the mind is most vulnerable—most frequently during sleep. But it didn't end there. While both minds are connected, they can experience what the other is feeling, as though they were one person.

Harmony was no longer thinking about how these indications related to Harry, but to her. The information was sound to her very own experiences; the vision-like dreams, even the emotions.

 _It's not possible. It can't be_.

Her mind traveled back to earlier that morning while she and Voldemort were in bed together. His words ran through her head over and over:

 _You are me. You are me. You are me_.

Harmony felt the book slip through her fingers, landing on the floor with a loud  _thud!_


	17. Chapter 17

The sun was high in the sky and well on its way down by the time Snape returned to the inn. He was exhausted having to continuously reapply his glimmer spell in order to stay inconspicuous. He had found the perfect "money opportunity" he had been searching for, and he had to Apparate all over the Wizarding world to confirm the rumors were true. He glanced down at the piece of parchment in his hand which contained all the information he needed to know. As he read, only one thought came to mind:  _She is going to despise me for this. That is, more than she already does._

When he walked into the inn, he noticed the innkeeper was not standing in his usual location behind the bar counter. Perhaps he was attending to new customers, and Snape felt a twinge of worry in his stomach for Harmony. When he reached the top of the stairs, he saw the innkeeper just shutting their room door behind him with a small tray in hand. When the innkeeper saw Snape, he growled.

"That girl is a mess," he sneered up at him as he walked by. "You ought to be ashamed of yourself." Without another word the innkeeper stalked off down the stairs.

When Snape walked into their room he saw Harmony sitting on the bed with her back to him. On the nightstand was a steaming cup of tea untouched. She didn't turn around when he closed the door.

"I found exactly what we needed to earn the money, though you will not like it," Snape said thinking that would get her attention. It didn't. "I ran into the Death Eater Mag once or twice, I feel that won't be the last either."

She said nothing.

Snape narrowed his eyes, "I told you to think about how Voldemort could be sending you the dreams. Have you thought of anything?"

He saw her head bob as she nodded. Sun poured from the window onto her hair, setting it aflame.

"You have?" Snape said in a surprised tone. "Well, what's with this silence? Come now, tell me." He took a couple steps toward her and his foot stumbled on an object on the floor. He looked down and saw Harmony's horcrux book; a couple of the pages were wrinkled as though it was carelessly set aside. He bent over and picked it up. He looked at the book, then slowly up at Harmony.

In a hushed tone he asked, "What has happened?"

Thoughts and memories were racing through her mind, stumbling over each other. She still couldn't believe it. She was a…she could hardly even think about it. This moment was exactly like when Voldemort told her about the meaning of her Serpentine charm, except now was ten times more horrifying. With the Serpentine charm she was still her own person, but with this she didn't know who she was. She didn't know what was hers anymore. She felt a sense of loneliness, but tried to keep in perspective she wasn't the only one; Harry, too, had once held a piece of Voldemort's soul. But despite the fact she wasn't the only one, it still  _changed everything._

She was only half aware Snape was standing behind her, but it was as though she could feel another presence in the room: Voldemort's. His soul—a part of his being and existence—was inside her, mingled and intertwined with her own soul. It occurred to her she was never alone; even when she fled around the country from forest to forest, inn to inn, she was never alone. When she made physical contact with Harry, it was not she who felt the hunger to kill her friend, it was Voldemort within her.

Harmony flinched when Snape spoke, dragging her away from her thoughts.

Snape's voice was low and threatening when he spoke. "You tell me this instant what is going on."

Harmony sighed. She hadn't cried yet. She didn't remember crying even when Voldemort told her she was his heir, but she felt close.

"Page two hundred and thirty-seven," Harmony said, looking over her shoulder at him and waving a hand to the book he held.

Snape was silent when he obeyed. For a moment Harmony heard the flipping of pages and when he was there he said, "Horcrux behaviors on humans?"

Harmony nodded, gave him a minute to read, and said, "Everything fits. The vision-like dreams, the random and unusual emotions, all of them, they fit."

Snape breathed in sharply and Harmony looked at him. "Of course it fits. I should have connected the similarities between you and Potter." His cold dark eyes met hers with his mouth handing open silently, and he asked, "Do you know what this means?"

Harmony turned her body toward him fully and she said, "There is some reason why I dreamt of  _that_  book," she nodded her head to the book in his hands. "Voldemort isn't immortal. He has a new horcrux. A part of his soul," Harmony swallowed, "is in me."

The room was deathly silent. Harmony was overcome with a sudden wave of shame and she couldn't look Snape in the eye. The whole world hated her for one act and that was saving Voldemort from the Battle of Hogwarts. But now, because of her, Voldemort was still immortal. Now she completely understood why the world should hate her, if they ever found out.

"When was it created," he asked. His voice was uncharacteristically gentle. "Can you think of when?"

She had tried to figure that out, but she wasn't sure. She made herself go back in time and try to sort through every event she ever experienced while with the Dark Lord. Her thoughts brought her back to one particular moment, and she knew that was it.

Harmony, Voldemort, and his Death Eaters were at Borgan & Burke's to get one of the last surviving Vanishing cabinets in Knockturn Alley. But the Aurors ambushed them and Harmony ran for cover in an alleyway. Two Aurors had been waiting there and snatched her before she could fight them off. They made a run for it with her thrown over the man's back. What was his name again? Podmore, Sturgis Podmore. They had intended to make her a tool of interrogation in order to pry out information about Voldemort. They were oblivious that the very man had hunted them down in order to save Harmony, and he had cornered them down in an alleyway. The first Auror, the woman, was dead in seconds; Voldemort took her life with a flash of green. The man holding her, Podmore, had instinctively turned his back on Voldemort and unknowingly protected Harmony from the deadly blow with his body. Voldemort killed him and Harmony felt the life leave Podmore. She saw images flash before her eyes, but not her own: Voldemort's. She saw him as a boy, a youth, and then a man. She fainted soon afterward, and with that a piece of Voldemort's soul was within her.

Harmony told this story to Snape and he explained that the horcrux had most likely been unintentional, so when Voldemort's soul split it entered the nearest living thing: her.

"So," Harmony said, covering her face with her hands, "let me get this straight: Voldemort gave me the Serpentine charm so I may take command if and when he dies, correct? But now when he dies he will just come back to life through me."

"You will still be yourself," Snape said, walking over to her and grabbing her wrist so she would look up at him. "The Dark Lord will just…be there, too, both while you are asleep and awake."

Harmony reclaimed her arm. "Harry said he had to die in order to get rid of the piece of Voldemort's soul."

"It is the only way."

"I don't want to die."

"You could come back as Potter did. And besides, it's only Voldemort himself who can destroy it."

Harmony nodded slowly. She sat on the bed in silence staring at a ray of sunlight on the floor which streaked in through the window. Snape watched her as she stood up suddenly, turned around, and began rearranging the bed covers.

Snape frowned at her. "What are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?" Harmony snapped at him, "I'm making the bed. This room is a mess."

"Well, are you not worried?" He followed her as she moved around the bed, tugging on the sheets. "This new horcrux of Voldemort's is a very large deal, it changes a lot."

With her back to him she shrugged her shoulders. "What does it matter," she said softly, "I've lived with it for this long. It's not so bad." She smiled a little. "The dreams in particular."

Snape straightened and stopped in his tracks, watching her. He mumbled under his breath, "Sometimes denial is the safest response." Then he said more loudly, "You know you don't have to pretend you are not afraid."

"I'm not afraid," she spat, spinning around to face him. "I mean…having to harbor the  _great and terrible_ Dark Lord's soul in me is a little frightening, I'll admit, but that's not what bothers me the most." She wiped away tears roughly with the back of her sleeve. She looked him straight in the eye when she said, "You were right when you said this changes a lot. This changes every thought and feeling I had when I was with him. How do I know whether or not what I felt was really me? The anger, the compassion? Or was that all just Voldemort, the horcrux, his soul within me? This changes every experience, every meaning behind every word passed between us."

She felt her face grow hot as Snape stared at her. This was the closest she had ever come to telling someone how intimate she was with Voldemort. As she felt Snape's eyes on her, she could imagine the thoughts going through his mind; thoughts of her and Voldemort together, no doubt.

Snape's next words made the hair on her arms stand up. "You cared for him, didn't you?"

Harmony bit her lip, hesitating, and when she replied her voice cracked, "I thought I did." Her words made fresh tears well in her eyes, but she blinked them away.

"So what you are saying is," he said hesitantly, "it was only  _him_ who had feelings for  _you,_  and because of the horcrux you felt the same way?"

Harmony shrugged her shoulders and she went right out and said it, "To tell you the truth, I hope not. I sincerely hope everything I felt was real."

"But you are not sure."

"No," she looked at him out of the corner of her eyes, wondering what he was getting at.

He laughed, but it was cold and humorless. He looked down at her as though she were a naive child. "I hope you aren't implying what I think you're implying. Really, the Dark Lord  _cannot_  love. Having spent so much time with him, you of all people should know better. He does not care for anyone but himself."

He gave her a smirk and Harmony felt an impulse to punch it off his face. Her hands curled to fists, but she restrained herself.  _He is so ignorant_ , she thought. She should have expected nothing less from someone who only knew Voldemort for his murderous and merciless actions. Snape doesn't know his master as well as he thinks.

Harmony stepped up to him until they were nearly nose-to-nose; her being a bit shorter, she had to crane her neck until her chin was nearly vertical to the floor. With her voice filled with venom she hissed, " _You're wrong_."

He flinched as though she had spewed an insult at him. His dark, obsidian eyes narrowed as he tilted his head ever so slightly to the side. "What has happened to you?"

She brought an index finger to her chest, pointing to her Serpentine charm. "This," she said.

After a moment Snape nodded in understanding. "I suppose I am partial to blame."

She thought a moment about what he meant. "But Dumbledore was the one who chose me to go to Voldemort."

"And I agreed with him, for the most part. I would have preferred a Slytherin to go, because it would have been too dangerous with you being Muggle-born."

Harmony nodded, thought a moment, and said, "Thank you."

"Hm?" He raised an eyebrow at her. "For what?"

"For not saying Mudblood. You said Muggle-born. Thank you."

He straightened his shoulders, adjusting his black robes. "I am a teacher. It is against policy to discriminate against students."

Harmony sighed and muttered, "I think I liked it better when I disliked you." And she added, "It certainly made everything easier."

She could see a light go on in Snape's eyes.

"Ah," he said, and he began rummaging through his cloak pockets, "speaking of hating me, that reminds me." He pulled out a piece of parchment. "Remember I told you I found our opportunity to get money." He handed her the paper for her to see. "Here it is."

Harmony took it from him and scanned over it. "Oh no," she said, her eyes going wide. She read and reread the paper, feeling her stomach drop as though she were free falling. "Oh, you've got to be kidding me."


	18. Chapter 18

A dueling competition.

But not just  _any_  dueling competition. This one was considered  _the_  Underground competition where all able and willing witches and wizards around the world competed. Death Eaters and Ministry workers alike attended as though equals; the Underground competition was ground zero, all fighting happened on the dueling stage. The prize was big—a whole pouch the size of your stomach full of galleons. It was more than enough to get the Polyjuice potion ingredients. Any word of there being a competition was always exchanged by word of mouth for safety reasons. Snape had to travel around to confirm the rumors were true that it was really going to happen. He had recorded all the information he collected on the piece of parchment Harmony now held in her hands.

" _A dueling competition?_ " she said. She gaped at Snape and then handed the paper back to him, "Well, good luck with that."

He raised an eyebrow at her.

Her arm dropped when he didn't take it from her. "You can't be serious.  _Me_? I got an Exceeds Expectations in Defense Against the Darks, you know." She added quietly, "One of the only Outstanding's I didn't get in OWLs."

"You don't think you can do it," Snape said.

"No," she looked down in shame, "I couldn't. So many powerful witches and wizards will undoubtedly be there."

"Undoubtedly."

"Then why  _me_?"

"Don't be so modest," he said. "I know you have been trained under the Dark Lord himself. You just don't know how well you are because you have not tested yourself properly against anyone else." Before she could reply, he turned around, and walked to the door. He looked back at her and beckoned a finger towards him for her to follow.

"Oh, I think I know what's coming," Harmony mumbled under her breath as she followed him out of the room.

She followed him outside. As they moved into the fields, Snape eventually held a hand up for her to stop, but he kept walking until he was about fifteen yards away. Then he spun on his heel to face her, his face void of emotion.

"Wand at the ready," he said holding his wand before him.

Harmony shifted from foot to foot, though she drew her wand. "Is this such a good idea?" she sighed.

Before the last syllable left her mouth Snape shot a fiery red spell at her, and if Harmony had not been quick enough she would have been flown off her feet.

"Sir!" she exclaimed, wide-eyed with surprise when she straightened herself.

"You want to know if you are capable," said Snape, "here is your chance." He cast another spell which Harmony deflected as though it were merely a fly. "Come now,  _fight back!_ _I_ t will get your mind off the horcrux."

"That's impossible," Harmony said through gritted teeth and she sent a curse at him, which he deflected with a snide smile. She knew she was only giving him what he wanted, but she felt a sudden urge to prove herself. A trait brought on by Voldemort's horcrux?

Snape would be on the offense, sending spells at her as slick and easy as breathing, leaving Harmony to defend herself at a steady pace. But eventually the tide would turn and she would be on the offense, attacking him with her large spell repertoire. Though his spells were somewhat powerful, he was slow to conjure them.

"You're holding back," Harmony said, feeling a twinge of annoyance.  _He doesn't think I can handle him_ , she thought bitterly. She heightened her performance and bombarded spell after spell at him. "Come on!" she shouted, "I thought you were trying to challenge me!" Every memory of Snape giving her trouble at Hogwarts now came pouring out in the form of her powerful spells. She gritted her teeth angrily and aimed a spell near his torso. Just before he deflected it, the light from the spell illuminated his face. His forehead was slick with sweat. Harmony immediately ceased fire and Snape doubled over hands on knees.

"Oh my god," said Harmony in awe. "You were actually trying."

Breathing hard, he looked up at her with narrow eyes. "At midnight we leave for the competition," he said. "We have a few hours until then, I suggest you work on your fighting technique—reacquaint yourself with spells."

Harmony nodded, watching him as he straightened up with difficulty and walked towards her.

As he passed by to head back to the inn he said, "You  _will_  win us that money, you understand?" He would have sound like he was giving encouragement if it weren't for his tone of voice. He wasn't being nice; he was simply demanding it from her.

Harmony didn't reply. She didn't like being told what to do; she wasn't used to it. If she didn't feel too heated she would have asked him what his plan of action was if she didn't win the money. She could imagine a snide " _We will cross that bridge when we get there"_ coming from him.

For dinner, Harmony went downstairs and found the innkeeper in the kitchen, munching on his own meal of chicken pot pie and pumpkin juice. When she inquired to him about her and Snape's meal, he pointed to a tray of food off to the side on a counter.

When she returned to the room, Snape was sitting up in bed reading a newspaper. He quickly tossed the paper aside and out of view when she entered.

"What was that?" Harmony asked, setting the tray of food on the end of the bed.

"Oh." He looked down at the paper he tossed to the floor. "Nothing, just  _The Daily Prophet_."

"Why did you try to hide it from me?"

He shrugged, but when Harmony didn't give up, he explained hesitantly, "I bought it in town today," he said. "I was going to show it to you when I returned…but then you shared your feelings you had for the Dark Lord, and I decided against it."

She walked over to the paper and stooped over to pick it up. "Well, if it's in  _The Daily Prophet_ , I'll likely find out about it eventually."

"Better later rather than sooner," she heard Snape mumble to himself as she straightened the paper to read the front page. The headline itself was enough to make her jaw drop.

_**You-Know-Who's Fate Soon to Be Decided** _

Harmony sat on the edge of the bed as she read. "Oh my," she whispered through fingers covering her mouth. "The Ministry is settling on a decision whether to execute him or not soon."

Snape nodded. "They expect to have a decision by this week's print."

She let the paper fall to her lap in dismay.

"This whole decision-making process was just ridiculous, in my opinion," Snape said. "Why he was even considered to be dropped from the execution is beyond me."

"It's because of people like me," she said to him fervently and glared at him over her shoulder. "We don't think it's right to kill someone who has no memory of their actions; it's murder, plain and simple. To execute him would be depriving him of a second chance."

Snape laughed sharply, mockingly. "Sounds like a pipe dream."

Harmony growled and she threw the newspaper at him. "I wouldn't expect a heartless ex-Death Eater to possibly understand!"

Forgetting her dinner, she left the room. She went downstairs to find the innkeeper and begged him to let her sleep in a separate room, hopefully free of charge. He took pity and gave her the keys to a room several doors down from Snape. When she was in her new room, she instantly lay down on the bed and cried. She had been holding back tears until now and it felt good to finally let them out.

She heard Snape's heavy foot falls approaching her room. He knocked, but she ignored him.

"I have your dinner here," he said. "You need to eat. You'll need the energy for the competition."

As if on cue her stomach grumbled. She sighed and said reluctantly, "Leave the tray by the door."

Harmony heard a clatter on the other side and she waited until she heard Snape's door close before retrieving her food. She ate what she could, but her mind was too befuddled with thoughts of execution. She imagined Dementors soaring in terrifyingly, surrounding Voldemort as they fed off his soul one by one until he was nothing but an empty shell. What sickened her most was she wasn't sure if she only felt guilty about his plight or if she was legitimately concerned about his wellbeing.

Did she ever care about him? Or did she just feel Voldemort's care for his heir?

Harmony set her food aside and closed her eyes, trying to focus her mind. She conjured an image of Voldemort, thinking of his stunning blue eyes, brows furrowed in intense concentration as they usually were. She tuned in to what exact emotion she felt when thinking of nothing but him. Instantly, she felt a need; a need to have him by her side and explain everything that was going on. How did he communicate with his Death Eaters so they knew where she was? If she was eventually caught by the Death Eaters, what would she do? How could she be a leader to them with him gone? Would she be able to go on with him dead?

With him executed, the world would be in jubilation, parading the streets in glee. She felt alone; she would be the only one who didn't wish him gone, save for his Death Eaters.  _I am the only one who may truly care about him_ , Harmony thought, feeling a heavy weight on her heart. Even his Death Eaters were frightened of him. She used to be, but not anymore; that made her unique compared to everyone else on the planet. Even Harry was frightened of Voldemort on some scale. Voldemort had no real family or friends, just frightened followers. And he had her.

Harmony tried to sleep. She needed to save up energy for the dueling competition. But she knew that wasn't the only reason she wanted sleep. Closing her eyes, she relaxed into the bed and her mind drifted. Slowly, her body grew heavy and numb, and then there was nothingness. Her world was quiet, then…

Quick, agitated raps on the door made her large brown eyes pop open.

"It's nearly time!" Snape's nasally voice shouted through the door. "We need to leave this instant!"

Harmony sat up in bed. Had a few hours flown by that quickly? She felt as though she had only just fallen asleep…She had fallen asleep, but there had been no appearance of Voldemort. What could that mean? He wasn't asleep in his Menkar cell, maybe. They both had to be asleep in order for them to meet in dreams.

It would have been nice to see him before she went off to fight in the competition; he could have given her a few pointers, like the mentor and student they used to be.

Harmony opened the door to her room, seeing Snape dressed in his heavy black cloak, wand in hand. She had a question ready for him the second she opened the door. It had popped into her mind the moment she woke. "Didn't you say everyone was going to this competition?"

"Yes."

"Including Death Eaters  _and_  Ministry workers," she clarified.

"Everyone," he repeated firmly.

"Okay." She nodded firmly. "Just give me a minute to get dressed."

"Hurry," Snape said impatiently.

She closed the door and began to untie the front of her shirt. She had made a decision; she was not going to hide her identity in any way at this competition. She was going to show the world just who she was, both Death Eater and Ministry worker alike. On her torso she wore a black corset over a black long-sleeved shirt. These were her clothes for as long as she had known Voldemort. She took off the shirt, leaving only her corset. Without her shirt, she bared much of her skin—from her arms to most of her chest.

Her Serpentine charm was plainly in view.

 _Am I going mad?_  she wondered as she quickly threw on her traveling cloak, covering her arms. She glanced at herself in the mirror, and she was momentarily paralyzed at what she saw. Her hair was a mess of waves hugging her heart-shaped face. A year ago this would have driven her mad, and she would've brushed it until it was as tidy as it would allow her. She was somewhat frightened by her eyes, dark and hard as they stared at her reflection. Didn't those same eyes used to be bright with excitement, not furrowed and guarded? She also noticed her skin had lost its color. She was pale, not as pale as Voldemort's pasty complexion, but she was getting there. She was wearing black, all black.

 _Death Eater_  instantly came to mind. It was like she was no longer pretending. She looked like a real Death Eater.

Harmony closed her eyes and took a deep breath,  _I am a good person, I am not a murderer, I am not Lord Voldemort…_

More raps sounded on the door with triple the force and persistence as before.

"We leave now!" Snape shouted.

"Coming!" Harmony replied, unable to suppress the annoyance in her voice at his insistence. She left the room quickly. Snape guided her out of the inn and into the midnight hour.


	19. Chapter 19

Harmony and Snape glided over the fields in the darkness as silent as shadows. The tall grass quivered in the sea wind at their knees, sounding as though a million small whispers were speaking to them. When the wind picked up, their whispers became louder and more urgent, and to Harmony it sounded as though they were trying to warn her.

 _Sssstop, turn back, don't go_.

It was starting to frighten her and she eventually broke the silence by asking Snape, "Are you sure this dueling competition will be safe?"

Snape had longer legs than she, so he strode ahead of her a couple paces quicker. The strands of black hair which fell like fat rattails in front of his face now blew back as he walked. He replied without looking back at her, "Safe in what way?"

That wasn't the answer she had been anticipating. "Just safe. I'm not going to risk losing my life or anything of that sort."

She could almost hear the amusement in his voice when he replied, "No, not safe at all, I've heard rumors that lives are lost every competition. There is no fighting allowed beyond the dueling floor. But  _on_  the dueling floor, that is a completely different story. There are no rules there; all wand spells are allowed, which I'm sure include the Unforgivable Curses…But keep in mind they are only rumors."

"Of course," Harmony said quietly to herself with a twinge of sarcasm. She pumped her legs faster, her black boots pounding in the earth as she hurried to fall into step beside Snape. "So while I risk losing my life, you're just going to stand by and watch. I've never used an Unforgivable Curse. Did you know that? How do you expect me to compete with the kind of people who wouldn't hesitate to use the Killing curse?"

"You will do fine," he said. They passed a barrier of trees, leaving the light of the moon and entering into the shadows of the forest. Snape said while he raised his wand, "You need to have more faith in your abilities— _Lumos—_ as well as who you are."

"What do you mean?" Harmony asked, looking over at Snape in the glow that emanated from the tip of his wand.

"You are the Dark Lord's heir, his chosen one. Any followers wouldn't dare kill you, and others would be too afraid to do it. It is the Ministry workers you need to be wary of. Any ally of Dumbledore and the Minister of Magic will be trying to kill you on the dueling floor."

Harmony gulped so loud Snape must have heard, because he quickly replied, "Trust your abilities. You are stronger than you know."

"I would feel flattered by that if it weren't for the fact you could be sending me to my death right now." She looked ahead, trying to make out the shadows of the trees in Snape's  _Lumos_. "Not much farther I hope," she said, keeping her voice light.

He nodded, "Yes, we will Apparate the rest of the way soon enough."

"Ah," she bobbed her head and they walked in companionable silence for a few moments. She could only keep her mouth closed for just a minute before she felt compelled to say, "So say there is going to be a lot of Ministry workers there…"

Snape grumbled, "Yes?"

"With so many criminals at this competition, it would be like an Auror's buffet. They could just take over and arrest who they want, couldn't they?"

Now Snape looked over at her, his eyes meeting the corners and looking over her face. A sly grin played at the corners of his lips. "That's why they call it the Underground tournament."

His reply hadn't done anything to sooth her nerves as she had hoped.

"But," Snape continued quickly, "the minute you step off the Underground dueling competition grounds you no longer have immunity from the law. I'm sure there will be people waiting to take you."

He stopped, and with a look around Harmony noticed they were in a small meadow circled by trees. She looked to Snape and he was staring down at her.

"The second we leave we must be  _very_  quick, before anyone can give chase, understand? Even if that means leaving me behind, you must flee."

Harmony nodded in agreement. "But I might be a bit slow," she said with a small hopeful smile on her lips, "being weighed down by my prize bag of galleons."

One corner of his lips twitched upward, but he said nothing as he curled his fingers around her shoulders and closed his eyes.

They Apparated and their bodies snapped out of and into existence. Where they went was void of any wind and it was warmer compared to the forest next to the sea. Snape unclenched his fingers from her and they looked around their dark surroundings. They stood at the peak of a small grassy hill in the country side. Lights from farm houses sprinkled here and there across the landscape.

"Er," Harmony mumbled, "Are you sure this is right?"

"Yes," Snape said confidently. He stretched a cloaked arm out and pointed in the darkness.

Harmony followed his finger and spotted a large warehouse at the bottom of the hill. A dim yellow light spilled out from the cracks in the wide door. As she watched, the large door opened and a shaft of light illuminated the ground and a couple of long shadows. Harmony pulled back her focus and for the first time noticed the many dark forms coming in at all sides. Men and women in their long flowing cloaks appeared in the darkness, gathering towards the same central location.  _So many people_ , Harmony thought with trepidation. Just in the short time she watched the others enter the warehouse, she expected the large place to be packed wall-to-wall. Snape started his way down the hill and Harmony followed; her eyes were fixated on the ground so she didn't trip.

"Keep on the lookout around you," Snape said. "You never know when someone might—"

There was a  _snap_  in front of Snape and he collided, face first, into a wizard's back. The wizard called out in alarm, but straightened himself and walked away without a word when he saw he wasn't in danger.

"Apparate," Snape finished in a weary voice, he brought up a hand to rub his large nose which had taken most of the impact.

On their way to the warehouse, Harmony let Snape take the lead in case they  _ran into_ anymore accidents. As they drew nearer, the yellow light from inside allowed her to catch a glimpse of those around them, and Harmony could make out the features of witches and wizards in the gloom. Some pristine looking wizards appeared to be Ministry material, but none met her eye. When she and Snape followed a group of witches past the large door inside, she expected the place to be completely full. But to her surprise they came upon a crowd that only looked to be thirty to forty strong. She looked up at Snape inquiringly, but he didn't seem fazed.

"Where is everyone?" she asked him, but he only shook his head, his dark eyes searching the crowd.

The large warehouse was dark except for a couple magically sustained balls of flame floating above the crowd, which were gathering at the far end. The atmosphere was abuzz with anxious and excited conversation and there was some kind of whirring sound, like metal machinery going on the other side of the crowd.

"We have to register first," Snape said beckoning her to follow and he stood at the end of one of the many lines waiting. As the people in front of them decreased and the number behind increased, Harmony noticed some people stood around with glowing bracelets on their wrists. Some emitted a deep blue color, while she spotted others that shone a yellowish gold.

As they drew closer to the front of the line and closer to the sound of the mechanic whirring, Harmony could feel eyes on the back of her head as strong as though they were physically poking her. Annoyed, she spun around to face the large crowd behind her and people quickly avoided her gaze. Did she detect fear in their eyes? Could they see who she was? A part of her wanted to wrap her arms around herself protectively and crawl into a corner. These people could harm her— _kill her_ —right now if they wanted.

She already had a reputation to uphold. These people thought she was a Death Eater; they had no idea Voldemort's very soul resided within her. She straightened her shoulders, lifted her chin, and stared straight ahead;  _I must not present any sign of weakness, I must appear strong but passive_ , she thought. In her mind she could imagine Voldemort murmuring into her ear, "That's my girl," and a shiver ran up her spine.

Now only a couple witches and wizards stood before them in line and Harmony peered between their cloaked bodies. Against the far wall were two elevators whirring at full blast. The bars on the elevators were a polished gold, and they looked out of place compared to the old rusty machinery within the warehouse. She noted the elevators were being filled to their maximum with people.

Harmony observed the process: A couple wizards—with their bodies built like bodyguards—stood at the front of each line. Hung before them in the air was a parchment and quill. The men asked the name of each person and whether they were dueling or not. The quill scratched the names on the parchment, and then slowly faded away as though the ink was being sucked into the paper. When people were directed to an elevator, a blue or gold bracelet glowed on their wrist.

Harmony and Snape stepped up to a burly red-haired wizard. His eyes didn't leave the parchment when he asked in a deep bass voice, "Name?"

"Severus Snape."

The man blinked and nodded his head in recognition to the potions professor. He didn't question Snape on whether or not he was a Death Eater, and Harmony hoped she'd be treated the same.

"Dueler?"

"Trainer," Snape replied. Harmony raised an eyebrow up at him and she saw the corners of his lips curving upward.

The guard grunted as he pointed his wand at Snape's wrist and a strand of gold light came out, wrapping itself around like a bracelet. When complete, the guard flicked his wand away and asked again, "Name?"

Harmony stepped forward and she answered, "Harmony Hangleton."

Immediately the buzz of conversation throughout the warehouse ceased until the whirring of the elevators was all that could be heard. Harmony felt every pair of eyes turn to her.

Suddenly her chest exploded in pain, burning her as though she had been set on fire. She had never experienced anything like it, and for a moment she wondered if she had been struck by spells. But when she looked down at her chest, she looked same as usual, no gaping hole, no blood, and no fire. She realized then it was simply her Serpentine charm. Her charm was picking up every single person's desire to kill her in that moment. It was screaming at her she was in danger, and she nearly doubled over in the pain.

Snape frowned at her. He saw the agony in her eyes.

Harmony bit her tongue until she tasted the warm salty liquid of blood. She told herself over and over not to show any weakness, she had to stay strong.

The guard's face fell as he stared at her wide-eyed, gaping. "Leaping gargoyles," he muttered under his breath. Talking started up again around her, no doubt she being the new topic of conversation.

Harmony resisted the urge to glance about her; she didn't want to see the looks fear, anger, and surprise in everybody's faces. She swallowed a mouthful of blood and cocked an eyebrow at the guard as if to say, "Whatever is the matter?"

Snape looked around them warily.

The red-haired guard had to physically shake himself from his shock before he could utter another word. He said with a skeptical smile, "I've come across many Death Eaters in these competitions." He blew out a lungful of air, his cheeks puffing out. "But never one as wanted as You-Know-Who himself."

Harmony opened her mouth to speak, but froze. This was the first time she had ever witnessed the fear people had of her. It was an appropriate reaction, of course, but she wasn't accustomed to it. What could she say? "No, I'm not a Deatheater," but that would just be ridiculous. How about, "I'm not You-Know-Who"? Also a lie because of the horcrux, but it wasn't so terrible a lie as the first.

"I'm not Voldemort," she coughed out, making it almost sound like a question. She cringed when every person around her tittered angrily.

"Don't say his name!" the guard hissed and rubbed his temples, "Blimey." He looked over at another guard and asked, "What should we do, mate?"

The other guard shrugged and nodded. "Let her in."

Their guard sighed and said, "Yeah, alright." He stepped up to her, "You're dueling, I presume?"

She nodded.

"Thought so." He flicked his wand out and pointed it at her, mumbling under his breath. A glowing blue strand emit from the tip and wound around her wrist. As it completed, the guard ran his green eyes over her face. Harmony met his eyes, not looking away.

"Bloody hell," he mumbled, his lips hardly moving, "you're just a kid."

She looked away when the bracelet was done and the guard flicked his wand back, breaking the strand. He took a step away and motioned a hand to the elevators.

"On the right," he directed, not taking his eyes off Harmony.

Snape bobbed his head in thanks as they went to the elevator on the right side of the warehouse. He leaned over and spoke in her ear, "I started to doubt there for a minute."

Harmony sighed in relief, nodding.

But their relief was short lived when they looked over and saw who was joining them on the elevator ride down.

Harmony inwardly groaned. How did they not spot them in line while they were waiting?

"Fancy running into you, my Lady," Mag called as he strutted up to them with Marek gliding gracefully at his side. "And she's competing, too," he said when he glanced down at her blue bracelet. He elbowed Marek lightly in the ribs, "This should be interesting."

Harmony looked down at their own wrists and noticed both of them wore blue dueler bracelets.


	20. Chapter 20

The golden bars of the elevator opened with a  _ding_. Marek and Mag went in first followed by Snape and Harmony. She stood in front of Marek. When the doors closed and the elevator descended, she could feel Marek's eerie brown eyes on the back of her head. If it weren't for the black cloth covering his nose and mouth, she was sure she would have felt his hot breath on the back of her neck. She did her best to ignore him and how unnecessarily close he stood behind her.

In the elevator, the pain from her Serpentine charm vanished and she sighed in relief. They were plunged into semi-darkness except for a soft yellow glow around the crown of the ceiling above their heads. Over a loudspeaker, a pleasant woman's voice listed off a couple rules in a placid tone.

Harmony swallowed nervously. They were going a long way down into the ground, and she could imagine it growing hotter. She coughed, hating the awkward silence.

"I'll admit I'm a bit surprised to see you here," she said.

Mag peered over Snape's shoulder to look at her. "Is that so?"

" _We're_  here for the grand prize," she said.

"Good for you," he replied with a smile in his voice.

"Which I will win," she finished. That got her a glare from Snape and a laugh from Mag.

"Strong words from a strong witch," Mag said between chuckles. "I have no doubt."

"So my question is," Harmony continued, "why you and your silent companion came to this competition at all."

"Enough," Snape hissed in warning.

"It's quite alright, Sev," Mag said without looking away from Harmony. Snape flinched at the nickname as though Mag had hit him. "We came here for the crowd," he explained. "You never know who you run into at these gatherings. After all, we've had the luck of running into you, have we not?"

Harmony turned her head to look back at him over her shoulder. "So you came here to recruit more Death Eaters, it that it?"

"Yes, and among other things," Mag said, shrugging. He nodded his head to Marek, "And my  _silent companion_ is quite the dueler, a secret weapon you could say. I would bet major galleons you two will be facing off in the finals together."

"Really?" Harmony asked as she turned her head to look at the wizard behind her. As expected, he was staring fixedly back at her. Why did he never blink? It made Harmony uncomfortable in her own skin. She swallowed her dry throat before saying, "Well, I acknowledge any challenge." She held her hand out to him. "May the best dueler win."

Marek stared at her hand for a brief moment before slowly extending it and grasping her hand in his.

At that moment, the elevator doors opened. A shiver ran up her spine as though she had been force-fed a bolt of electricity. She turned forward again and looked out on the Underground dueling competition. Harmony's brown eyes grew wide with wonder when she realized Snape meant it when he said  _everyone_  was going to be there. The crowd of witches and wizards was vast, but they weren't packed like sardines. The walls expanded for hundreds of yards, large enough to fit everyone comfortably with room to spare. At the very center was a rectangular platform approximately ten to twenty yards in length. That had to be the dueling floor, and at that very moment two duelers were battling it out; the light from their spells momentarily illuminated the faces in the crowd below. A large group of people were gathered at the far end, behind the dueling stage, and Harmony saw a bar set up beside a dance floor. The music playing was loud and fast with a low bass that rumbled deep in her chest.

Harmony took a step out of the elevator and lights suddenly exploded in the air above the dueling stage. She gasped as the bright gold lights formed a name and flew about the entire room above their heads. The magical gold lights shone on the cheering crowd below. She glanced at the stage and saw one dueler holding their arms over their head in victory; their competitor lay flat on their back, unconscious. She looked back at the name in the air, realizing it was the name of the winner in the duel.

 _My name will light up when I win_ , Harmony thought with dread heavy in her gut.  _It will be there for everyone to see_ _._

She stepped out of the elevator and stood there before the crowd. She felt Marek step up behind her as he and Mag followed her out. Eyes of many witches and wizards turned to her as though magnetized to her presence. Harmony watched wordlessly as their gazes drew wide when trained upon her. She imagined how she must look being flanked by two Death Eaters.

Snape pointed off to the side. "We need to find the dueling organizer to see when you compete," he said in her ear loudly over the music and conversation.

Harmony nodded and let him lead the way.

"You don't mind if we stick close by, do you?" Mag said with a smirk before they walked off.

Snape turned back around and went right into Mag's face. "You do not take her anywhere," he warned in a low voice.

Mag held up his hands in defense. "Wizards honor. I respect any and all Underground laws," his grin turned tight into a leer, "laws which do not cover you the instant you step off grounds."

"We'll be long gone before you try to catch me," Harmony said to Mag. She looked to Marek. He still said nothing, and he was still staring at her. But now his eyes were narrowed, like he was glaring or smiling. Harmony had a feeling it was the latter.

"We'll see," said Mag, Harmony tore her eyes away from Marek. Mag raised an eyebrow at her. "You never know what tonight will bring, am I right?"

She didn't answer. A place where Ministry officials and Death Eaters act as equals could bring many surprises. But that didn't mean they'll be getting what they want tonight.

She turned away with Snape, and they moved through the crowd together. The sea of people parted in front of them as though moved by some unseen force. All eyes turned to Harmony, and their stares drove into her face as though physically inflicting her. Her Serpentine charm burned, and it was only a reminder that she was always in danger, always on the brink of death if it weren't for the laws of the Underground Dueling competition. Harmony forced herself to make eye contact with every individual who looked her way. She kept close in mind that this was  _nothing_ like the Slytherin Celebration all those months ago. This was  _nothing_  like the dueling club at Hogwarts. For one thing, there were no rules on the dueling floor; this was going to be ten times more dangerous than the Hogwarts' dueling club. Also, she no longer wore her face scarf like she did before; her identity was now revealed to every individual in the immense room. Now everyone knew who she was. Yes, she was that girl who stood by Voldemort's side, and yes, was a friend to Harry Potter as well. The question that rang in Harmony's head was: what did they see when they looked at her? Did they see a great and terrible witch, destined to strike fear into their hearts? Or did they see a frightened young woman, thrust into a responsibility she could hardly handle?

Harmony felt like both. She didn't belong anywhere; not good or evil, just stuck in the middle. She had been good, once upon a time. But her wants and desires for the Dark Lord Voldemort were undeniable. Her brain, a muscle she was so used to trusting, was warning her of the evil. But her heart spoke different. Lord Voldemort wasn't just a part of her life. Their very souls were intertwined.

The way some individuals looked at her, it was as though they could hear her thoughts. Hateful glares, mistrustful glances, fearful anticipation. It wasn't just the way they looked at her, she snatched various conversations among the buzz of people. She caught words like, "Serpentine…Potter's friend… _traitor_." She heard the last word most often. She almost expected their harsh words to wring her heart to pieces, and if she had been the same Hermione Granger from a year ago, it would have. But now, Harmony Hangleton—forever hiding behind her pseudo name—stuck her chin up in the air, letting their words roll off her back.

They found the dueling organizer surrounded by a small crowd of people, and they fought their way through to him. He was an official looking wizard with a checklist hanging in the air in front of him like the guards in the warehouse. Harmony caught a glimpse of the parchment and saw it was a full list of names, some of which faded and appeared, listing new duelers.

"Harmony Hangleton," Snape said to the organizer before anyone else could get ahead of them.

Unfazed by her name, the organizer looked to the list, his eyes twitching back and forth as he searched. He pointed a pinky finger on the parchment to keep his place. "Hangleton," he called. "You're just in time. You'll be dueling next." He looked to the dueling stage and pointed, "Your first opponent hasn't shown up yet. Go wait in the dueler's tent and we'll send them over when they arrive."

Snape nodded and led the way out of the crowd surrounding the organizer. Harmony saw the dueler's tent was a small structure at one end of the dueling stage. When there, Snape pulled back a heavy red curtain and she stepped inside. It was mostly empty, only a couple waiting duelers sitting silently by themselves. Snape and Harmony sat on one of the benches away from the others.

Snape swiveled in his seat so he was facing her, and he bent his head in close. She could smell their dinner on his breath when he spoke. "Don't be nervous, you know you are more than capable of winning this, but don't get big headed. The last thing we will need is for you to start showing off, as usual."

She pursed her lips at him in irritation. After that, she zoned out Snape's voice, which persisted to give her dueling tips. As she pretended to listen, nodding her head every now and then, she thought about the duelers she was about to battle. How many would she have to face? Would they be as easy as anticipated? Or would she come across a wizard who wouldn't hesitate to use the Unforgivable Curses? One slip of the wand and she could be hit by the Killing Curse. What then? Would Voldemort's soul emerge from within her?

"Oi," Snape said sharply. Harmony flinched, focusing her eyes on him. "Are you even listening to me? Why do you persist on making this more difficult? It's like I'm talking to the bench."

"Sorry," Harmony mumbled, shifting nervously in her seat.

At that moment, the thick tent flap was pushed aside and the organizer's head peered in.

"Your opponent has arrived," he said to Harmony then disappeared.

He dropped the tent flap, but it was caught by a new hand, pale and unblemished. The flap lifted like a theater curtain, presenting Harmony's opponent. When she saw who it was, her jaw dropped. Her eyes met the last person she'd imagined seeing at the competition. There stood a sullen, pale, platinum blond Draco Malfoy.

Draco took one look at Harmony. He blinked, and his shoulders sagged.

"Damn it," he muttered.


	21. Chapter 21

"Draco!" Snape exclaimed in surprise when he saw the young Malfoy enter the tent.

With a sigh, he collapsed onto the wooden bench across from them. His pale eyes ran over Harmony dismissively. "So  _you're_  still alive, are you?" He scoffed, shaking his head.

While Harmony glared at him, Snape asked, "Draco, what are you doing here? Where are your parents?"

"Mother's just outside the tent. But I don't think she's in the mood for talk. She's stressed enough having to be at  _this_  place."

"What are you doing here?" Harmony asked.

"That's none of your bloody business, Granger!" he replied forcefully.

"What are you doing here, Draco?" Snape repeated.

Draco looked away, pursing his lips. After a hesitation, he said reluctantly, "We need the money." He quickly added to Harmony, "But it's nothing serious, alright? Everybody needs a few extra galleons these days."

"You said Narcissa was here," Snape said. "Where is your father?"

He bit his lip and Harmony knew he was reluctant to speak. "He's working overtime at his new job. We're just trying to start over, what with the Dark Lord gone."

"He's not dead yet," Harmony snapped.

"Starting over is wise," Snape said, ignoring Harmony's outburst. "Are you and your family still at the Malfoy Manor?"

Draco shook his head. "They thought it would be a good idea to sell it. We have a place maybe twenty miles in a forest near Father's new work." His face soured. "It's tiny as hell, in my opinion, a shack compared to the Manor."

Without a word, Snape was on his feet and swept out of the tent, leaving Harmony and Draco alone.

An awkward silence settled on the dueler's tent. Unspoken words rallied back and forth between the two that might as well have been a heated argument. They cast each other glares, provoking the other to speak first.

"I hate you," Harmony said at last, feeling relief at finally getting it out in the open.

"Tell me something I don't know, Mudblood."

Harmony flinched at the insult and she hissed, "Do you know why I hate you?"

He narrowed his eyes, thinking.

"Because you tried to kill me!" Harmony shouted, jumping to her feet. The other competitors spun their heads in her direction at her outburst.

"W-what?" he said. His well-groomed platinum blond hair seemed to deflate.

"You practically sent me to my death!" She pointed an accusing finger under his nose and his eyes went cross-eyed looking at it.

"What're you talking about?" he exclaimed. "You're mad!"

She dropped her arm. "Last time I saw you, you tattled on me to Voldemort like a little rat," Harmony said. "You knew he wouldn't take the news that I was Muggle-born well. You left me there alone with him because you knew he would kill me for it, didn't you?"

Draco's Adams apple bobbed as he swallowed, and Harmony knew he understood what she was talking about. She glared down at him with as much hatred as she could muster. "I've always thought low of you, Draco Malfoy, but that was lower than low. That was unforgivable."

He stared at the clasps of her cloak, not able to meet her eyes; his cheeks were flaming red with what Harmony took to be shame, but when he looked at her she saw not one guilty speck in his cold pale eyes.

"I thought You-Know-Who would reward me and my family for it—for telling the truth." His eyes narrowed dangerously, "And if you think I would have sacrificed a chance to save myself instead of a Mudblood like you, then you aren't the know-it-all I thought you were."

Harmony shook her head and whispered, "Spoken like a true Slytherin." With a sigh she sat back down on the wooden bench, glaring at the abomination in front of her with revulsion.

The two stared each other down until Draco crumbled and looked away. "Do me a favor, Granger?"

"What?" She said angrily, gripping the wooden bench beneath her.

He met her eyes directly. "Don't kill me."

Harmony's face fell, and she stared at him.

"Don't kill me. And for Mum's sake, don't embarrass me," he ran a hand through his light hair with a heavy sigh. "I swear if you cast me flat on my back, I'll murder you later for it."

Harmony knew he was only kidding, but the last thing she wanted to do then was laugh. She understood what he was thinking. She wanted to say, "Just because I have Voldemort's Serpentine charm doesn't make me a killer." But the words froze on her tongue. What if Voldemort's horcrux within her made her do something she didn't want to do? What if it took control and cast Unforgivable curses against her wishes?

She needed control. It was her body, not his. She needed to keep her soul in control.

Draco leaned forward so they stared eye-to-eye. "Let's say we make a deal," he said, raising his light eyebrows. "You beat me, you win, and you share five percent of your winnings."

Harmony laughed, and then laughed harder at the puzzled look on Draco's face. She also leaned in and said, "How about this? I beat you, I win, and you will be thankful I didn't kill you."

Draco's mouth dropped open slightly. The shock registered on his face made a fluttering in Harmony's stomach.  _Yeah_ , she wanted to say,  _I'm not the girl I used to be, I know_.

Both of them jumped when golden lights exploded above them, and they could hear the roar of the crowd as the name of the winner circled the massive room. The noise rumbled deep in her chest, shaking her pounding heart against her ribcage. A wizard came in the tent and looked around frantically. When he spotted Draco and Harmony, he sighed impatiently.

"Hurry up, you're on next!" He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder to the dueling stage and was gone.

Harmony and Draco exchanged glances. The young wizard elbowed his way in front of her, so as to be first on stage, but Harmony didn't mind. She stopped just before exiting the tent. Quickly, she unclasped the front of her cloak. The fabric fell gracefully off her shoulders, exposing her Serpentine charm. Before stepping out into the battle ground, Harmony grazed her fingers over the black ink of her enchanted tattoo.

"Help me," she whispered.

Then she pushed aside the heavy tent flap and stepped out.

Harmony was met with a roar of voices. Part cheering. Part booing. She didn't need to look to know which voices belonged to whom. The pain from the Serpentine charm had reached its maximum, and now it was only a numb pressure over her chest.

Before going up the stairs to the dueling stage, Harmony cast her guarded brown eyes to the witches and wizards huddled around her. Fear, hate, excitement, curiosity; it showed on all of their faces. Witches sneered, wizards cursed her, and only the select few smiled knowingly with pride. Strangely enough, she felt some kind of comfort in their smiles.

Harmony climbed the steps. Her feet stepped out onto the black stone covering the stage. She felt the heat radiating from the solid rock beneath her, making her forehead dampen with sweat. Her eyes scanned the crowd which drew closer as she and her opponent took their places at each end. Several layers of people back, she saw Snape, and at his side was a fragile Narcissa Malfoy with worry etched in her pale brow. Behind them was Mag and Marek. Mag smiled and nodded as their eyes met. She looked away and faced Draco Malfoy. Even from that distance, Harmony could make out the pearls of sweat slipping down his forehead to the collar of his jacket. His Adams's apple bobbed whenever he swallowed from nerves. The corners of her lips curved upward in what she intended to be a comforting smile, that she didn't mean any real harm. But then Draco's eyes drew wide with apparent fear, and she could imagine the look on her face now seemed more hostile, like she was a smirking snake zeroing in on its prey.

Harmony nodded to Draco and she took the first step. He followed her lead, and they began to walk toward each other. When they were a couple feet apart, they stopped. Draco's eyes flickered from her Serpentine charm, to her eyes, then back again as they bowed to each other. Harmony remained firm and stared Draco down unflinchingly. They straightened their backs and spun away with a twist of their heels. Now with their backs facing the other, Harmony stepped ten times away from her opponent, like the countdown to a ticking time bomb… _Three, two, one_. She twirled around to face her opponent.

"Wands at the ready!" a wizard shouted from below.

As one, she and Draco took their dueling stances.

Immediately, Harmony wanted to cast the first spell because she was so used to having to react quickly while dueling her past master, Voldemort. But Draco's words echoed in her mind, "For Mum's sake, don't embarrass me." Harmony bit her cheek in irritation. She must let him cast the first spell, no matter how much she hated it.

When she held her stance, Draco's face flickered with confusion.

This moment of hesitation held the crowd captive. Not one breath was inhaled as they stared, frozen in anticipation.

Then Draco cast the first spell. He sent the great burst of red light reeling down at Harmony as though it were infused with all of his hatred. The  _Expelliarmus_  was nearly blinding, but she was ready. Her body was well used to the rhythm Voldemort instilled within her in their lessons. Wait for it, deflect, and counter attack. In one motion, Harmony broke past Draco's spell and deflected with the  _Protego_  charm. Draco's scarlet spell flew back at him with double force. Harmony could hear his gasp all the way from her end. He cast the spell aside at the last millisecond, but his feet tumbled together in attempted to quickly move out of the line of fire. He tripped, falling to his knees and caught himself with his wandless hand. His face flashed up to her, and Harmony watched as the fury bubbled in his eyes. She allowed him to stumble to his feet before she cast a  _Stupefy._

" _Ennervate_!" Draco shouted. His voice was trembling, as though anger coiled in his throat, making speaking difficult. " _Petrificus Totalus_!"

Harmony side-stepped the spell, crossing her left foot behind her right, and the spell grazed by her hip ineffectively.

Draco shouted out, his wand clasped in his hand with a white-knuckled grip. "Damn you, Mudblood!" The crowd gasped at their feet as Draco swooped into a new dueling stance.

His words hit Harmony harder than any spell, and her cheeks grew hot with anger and embarrassment. She quickly followed his lead and took a new stance.

Harmony knew. She could see the words forming on his lips before they were even spewed from his sneering mouth. A bead of sweat rolled down her temple. Her heart beat dangerously slow.

" _Crucio_!" he screamed.

Harmony didn't know how to stop the Unforgivable curse. It came so quick, the adrenaline in Draco's blood increased the power and speed. Instinctually, she shut her eyes, bracing her body for the major blow. Behind her eyelids a bright blue light flashed like lightning. Her body warmed suddenly as though it were on fire, but immediately cooled.

No pain.

Harmony opened one eye at a time. Everything was quiet except for the music blasting on the dance floor. She looked down at herself, but she was unharmed. She looked back at her opponent; Draco was staring at her in mute horror. Then she knew. In order to protect herself, the magic in her blood instinctually cast the  _Cascadia_  spell. Harmony hardly needed to even think and it happened. She gave a silent thanks to Voldemort for teaching it to her.

Harmony could feel everyone's eyes upon her, staring in awe. Draco slowly fell to his knees. He knew it was over.

A quiet buzz started among the crowd. She couldn't understand the words, only that they were quick and repetitive. The buzz climbed as more people began to catch on. Louder and louder the words became until they ringed in Harmony's ear. The army shouted, and then pumped their fists in the air. They were like rebels in a revolution. Harmony closed her eyes, absorbing their screams and pleas.

"Finish him! Finish him! Finish him!"

Draco hung his head in defeat. His temples pulsed as he clenched his jaw. He released his wand, and the slender bit of wood fell to the black stone stage with a clatter.

"Finish him! Finish him! Finish him!"

Their noise was suddenly like food for her soul.  _Her_ soul? Or  _his_? And she raised her wand, pointing the weapon directly at Draco. Harmony licked her lips; she could almost taste the words, desperate to escape. It was bittersweet, like honey tinged with vinegar. In her mind, she watched memories of her past at Hogwarts; Draco and his cruel gang of cronies. They didn't deserve to live. All those times, all those harsh words, they cut her deeper and deeper like razor blades. The Killing curse came up in her throat; she could do it, she knew she could. She almost  _wanted_  to.

" _Avada_ -," she gasped, only a whisper on her lips. But the words faded. The Killing curse was so much harder to cast than she thought; it was as though she had to physically burst through a barrier, like a brick wall. She had to  _really_  want to do it. Harmony gritted her teeth. " _Avada_ ," she tried again, but stopped. She gave a small cry of exasperation. Thoughts raced through her head. Did she really want to end his life? He has done horrible things, some of which were unforgivable, but…so has Voldemort. The Dark Lord has done inconceivable acts that should never even be mentioned. But she still cared for him. Draco was nothing in comparison.

"I can't," she muttered under her breath. Then she shouted, " _Expelliarmus!_ " The spell impacted Draco square in the chest. The young wizard grunted and was flown from his knees and landed in the crowd behind him.

The air above exploded into golden lights. Harmony watched in wonder as "Harmony Hangleton" formed, sparkling over the hundreds of people. The sound of applause surprised her. She looked out over the crowd. People were clapping and grinning up at her; not all, but more than she expected. Were there really that many Death Eaters? Or were people other than followers cheering for her? She tried to muster a smile for them and was soon directed off the stage. At the bottom of the stairs, hands reached out for her to shake.

Harmony let anyone grasp her hand, but she was only half aware. She needed to see Draco, to see the look on his face as he realized  _she_  had defeated him, despite her Muggle blood. She moved through the tight crowd pushing in on her, and she slowly made her way over to the opposite end of the stage. Draco was holding his forehead, cringing; her spell must have hit him harder than she thought. Harmony saw Narcissa Malfoy fighting her way over to her son, using elbows and claws to reach him as soon as possible. Harmony pushed two wizards aside and stepped up to Draco on the ground. Mother and son looked up at her with unease. Harmony held her hand out to him, offering to help him up.

Draco stared at her hand as though it were covered in spiders. Harmony insisted. Then Narcissa gave her son a small push and Draco clenched his jaw, moving toward Harmony with reluctance. With the hand he used to hold his head, he reached out to her and clapped it in hers. A satisfied smile formed on her lips as Harmony grasped and brought him up off the ground. When he was standing, she shook his hand once firmly. He said nothing, but peeled his hand away when she was done. He stared at the floor as someone handed him back his wand, and Narcissa wrapped an arm around him.

A firm hand grasped Harmony's shoulder and she looked back expecting to see Snape. But instead she saw Mag Crotchet's black beady eyes gazing down at her.

"Exceptional," he said from behind black crooked teeth. "Quite extraordinary—as expected, of course."

"Thank you," she said plainly, shrugging off his hand. She looked around and asked, "Where is Marek?"

His eyes brightened mischievously. "Why, he is about to perform." He pointed. "Take a look."

Harmony brought her eyes to the dueling stage. People were now gathering around the platform once again, ready for the next show. Up on stage was the tall form of Marek and a stumpy witch. They had just turned their backs on each other and took their ten steps.

"Wands at the ready!"

Marek swooped gracefully into stance.

Then it was over. Just in the blink of an eye.

Suddenly the stumpy witch was flying across the stage, disappearing into the bodies of the crowd. Harmony gasped as Marek stalked off without hesitation before the lights in the air could even explode his name.

The crowd didn't clap; there was hardly time to register what happened. At her elbow, she heard Mag bellowing with laughter.

"Like I said," Mag said in her ear, "this should be interesting."

Harmony felt her stomach drop with dread. How was she going to compete with  _that?_


	22. Chapter 22

Harmony joined the others as they stood at the edge of the stage, close enough she could smell the sweat pouring from the dueler's brows. Next it was Mag's time to go on. Marek found Harmony in the crowd and stood at her elbow. Harmony imagined he and Mag made an agreement not to leave her side the whole night. She faced forward, not giving Marek the satisfaction that she was very much aware of his overbearing presence.

Mag was a skilled dueler, which was expected from one who spent their life fighting beside the most feared and powerful wizard in the world. When he walked towards his opponent to bow, he found Harmony in the crowd and winked down at her. He didn't wait for the other dueler to cast the first spell; he pummeled them with a torrent of curses until his opponent collapsed to their knees, holding their hands over their head for protection. Mag laughed at their easy submission. Harmony could tell he was the kind to serve quick and long bouts of pain, and enjoyed watching the aftereffects. He was going to be a challenge to duel, as well.

Snape encouraged Harmony and Draco to stick together throughout the night. She wasn't sure why, perhaps for protection in case they ran into trouble with other wizards, but she loathingly accepted. Draco followed her around, sulking, with Narcissa stuck close to his side.

Harmony had to duel a few others until she had a chance to take a much needed break. Each dueler was as different as the last. A few people in the massive crowd cheered when she made her way back on stage. Her next dueler was a middle-aged woman, well past her prime, and she trembled as she was pushed up the short flight of stairs to the stage. Her shoulders were hunched, as though hoping to protect herself by letting her body fold in on itself. The small woman glanced up at Harmony like she thought she was looking into the eyes of Voldemort himself.

 _In a way, she is_ , Harmony mused.

The woman tripped when she had to walk towards Harmony to bow. Her behavior was almost unbearable to watch, and Harmony cringed when the middle-aged witch whimpered in fear as they took their dueling stances.

Like before, Harmony held back from being the first to cast. But the woman wasn't quick to act. She tried  _very hard_  to flick her wrist to conjure, but it looked more like her body was convulsing into spasms. Harmony's eyes glanced around. What should she do? This witch was so out of her mind in fear; she could hardly make herself conjure a simple spell. Her mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, but her breath was raspy and useless. Harmony's cheeks actually felt warm with embarrassment. The two of them had already stood on stage, doing nothing to satisfy the crowd for the past minute. She  _had_  to do something, so she slowly stepped out of her attack stance, and very calmly—as though facing a quivering baby rabbit—she whispered a small spell.

" _Expelliarmus_ ," the weak red light flew down at the woman and shot her wand out of her trembling hand.

This little bit of magic sent the woman into a fit of tears. She spun around and scuttled down the stairs, pushing her way past the people blocking her at the bottom. Harmony shrugged with uncertainty when her name appeared in the sky and some onlookers laughed at the spectacle.

Her next opponent substantially paralleled the middle-aged woman. He was a tall, broad shouldered man and bald with fierce green eyes that were full of contempt. Trouble was written in every crease on his stern face. Harmony regarded him with unease, and she didn't let her eyes leave his. He clenched and unclenched his fists, a sign that told her he was rash and quick to act without thinking. When they walked towards each other, he reached her in four strides and nearly bowled her over. His tall form blocked out the light above.

Harmony swallowed anxiously. She bowed, as usual, but he hardly nodded his head, showing her little respect. That got him a few boos from her "fans."

"Traitor," he hissed.

Harmony said nothing as they spun away to take their ten steps. She twirled around on her heel, moving into stance.

" _Avada Kadavra_!" the wizard shouted while she was in mid-turn.

As one, she and everyone in the crowd gasped, and the deep green light soared down to her as though in slow motion. Harmony didn't see her life flash before her eyes. There was no guiding tunnel of light. She stared transfixed into the flashing of the green, growing larger as it neared, and saw Voldemort's cold blue eyes staring back at her. As quick as a bolt of lightning, Harmony thought how what a pity it was that she was never going to see him again. In her mind, she saw an image; it was so faint, like a whisper of colors, and she could see him and herself walking hand in hand in a field like they didn't have a care in the world. The image became clearer, the colors more vibrant, and Harmony somehow knew that that was where she would go if this killing curse hit her. She wasn't seeing her life before her eyes, like usual, but what she wished her life would be.

As though being served a brutal punch to the chest, she dropped from the haze and was forced back to reality. Her wand hand moved without thinking, like being pulled by puppet strings, and waved in front of her body to deflect the blow of green light. The killing curse dispersed into the air like fog zapped by sunlight. After a moment of heavy silence, angry titters started among the Death Eaters. They didn't like this wizard who would dare threaten the life of their Dark Lord's heir. The man himself glared down the stage at her, focusing on her body movements and expressions to register whether she was infuriated by his actions. His fists were clenched, and his shoulders shrugged tight up to his ears; he was in survival mode.

Harmony was unsure. She wasn't angry; his desire to harm her was understandable, but what should she do in return. No doubt her Death Eaters expected her to curse this man to oblivion; use the  _Cruciatus_  curse, make him scream, or use the  _Imperius_  curse and make him  _Bombarda_  his own head off, or perhaps just go for the gold and take his life with a flash of green. The possibilities were endless, but she had no desire do such things.

Her opponent watched her warily. It was now her turn and she racked her brain for a spell that wouldn't cause too much harm, nor make her appear weak. So she sent a Stinging hex and it blasted on the man's right shoulder. The hex was relatively soft but the sting was just enough to make him call out, more in surprise than pain. He faltered back a step grasping his shoulder and he flashed his fierce green eyes at her like daggers. His face grew red with fury and Harmony almost expected him to cast another Unforgivable curse. This time she was ready. But when he wove his wand and flicked his wrist, only a scarlet  _Stupify_  cast down at her. She deflected the spell with ease and from then on their dueling was smooth sailing. It was like the man knew he was losing, that fighting the Ministry's Most Wanted was a hopeless cause. But he didn't want to give up; he wanted to leave the battle scarred. After the duel had crescendo and reached its peak, Harmony decided to end it with the full body-bind curse. His limbs slapped to his sides, straight as a board, and he fell defenselessly forward. Every watcher flinched when his face slammed onto the stone top of the stage.

Her supporters burst into cheers as her large opponent was carried off.

 _I can do this_ , Harmony thought, grinning.  _I could actually win!_

Before she had a break in her dueling schedule, Harmony battled her first real Death Eater of the night. He had greasy black hair, much like Snape, only he was smaller in build. His eyes were shiny and narrow like he had a secret; a horrible, dark secret that could make blood stop cold in the veins. He bowed so deeply to her that the ends of his hair nearly grazed the floor.

When they turned around to step into dueling stance, the Death Eater surprised her when he swooped down into another deep bow, hanging his head and holding arms open. Harmony waited, but he didn't step out of it. He was going to let her win. He was only waiting to let her cast the spell that would put him out of the competition.

She stood there, hesitating.  _He was just giving up?_  She looked around and spotted her group; she raised her eyebrows at Snape questioningly. He nodded slightly. Before she could think any further, she faced the Death Eater and cast a simple disarming spell. He stepped out of his bow and left the stage without a word. Her name appeared above in gold letters.

Technically she had won, but it didn't feel that way. She felt like a cheat. The Death Eater didn't even try to win. A part of her smoldered beneath, but she knew she should be grateful for anything that can help her win this tournament.

Harmony had time to spare before her next duel and she was absolutely parched. When she left the stage, Snape met her at the bottom of the stairs.

"You looked like a fool standing there, wand pointed, doing nothing," he hissed. "That Death Eater was letting you attack him and you just stood there. I thought we agreed we were going to win this tournament!"

"I," she sighed angrily. "We agreed  _I_ was going to win this tournament. I don't see you risking your life, sir." She looked at him hard. "This is my battle. Let me win it my own way."

"Oh Merlin's beard," he growled under his breath and turned to walk away.

Harmony glowered at his back. She followed a group of people making their way to the large bar on one side of the room. People cast glances at her, but thankfully didn't bother.

"Excuse me," she said politely, wedging herself between witches and wizards socializing in front of the bar.

She felt small while the people stared, like she was an ant being speculated beneath a magnifying glass. When she reached the bar—a high standing counter made of black stone like the dueling stage—she looked up at the hovering menu.

"Firewhiskey, wine, mead," she muttered as she read. One of the bartenders holding a clear bottle of gold liquid passed and she stopped him. "Excuse me? Do you have anything that isn't alcoholic?"

"We're out of butterbeer," he replied.

"Oh, that's too bad," she said and was about to ask for water when the bartender quickly replied.

"You got a problem with my drinks?" his said in irritation. "How old are you?"

"I'm seventeen, almost eighteen." Then she quickly added, "But I don't drink."

He laughed and gave her a tight smile. "Well," he reached one hand under the bar and came out with a small shot glass. "It's never too late to start." He uncapped the bottle of gold liquid and began to pour.

"Oh, no thank you," she said quickly, waving her hands and shaking her head. "I shouldn't."

"Why not?" He slid the glass closer to her.

"Er…" She needed to be fully alert while she dueled, but her next fight wasn't for a while now. The alcohol would have time to settle and it wasn't a whole lot; it might even calm her nerves. So she smiled sheepishly and picked up the small glass with her inexperienced fingers. She brought the brim to her lips and sipped as though it were a cup of tea, but then the bartender reached over and tipped the glass up so she gulped it down entirely. She coughed and sputtered as the liquid seared down her throat, setting it aflame. The scent and taste of the strong alcohol tickled her nose and she sneezed.

"Cheers," the bartender said as he poured his own shot and gulped it down at once.

"Oh, that was awful."

He nodded thoughtfully and looked down at the bottle in his hand. "Hm, yes, 1935. Not a good year…Another?" he asked, holding the bottle over her glass, ready to pour.

She shot her hand over the brim. "Heavens no, but thanks."

Harmony turned away before the bartender could offer her anything else. There were people pushing in on her from all sides, calling out drink orders, or leaning in to be heard amongst their friends. The edge of her vision was slightly blurred, making the colors swirl. She shut her eyes tight and shook her head, but when she opened them again the impairment was still there. She never had strong liquor before—only sips of wine with Mum and Dad at dinner, and even then she never finished a glass.

Energy suddenly surged through her body; she needed to move around, do something besides stand here with people staring at her from all around.

She pushed her way back out of the bar crowd. Off to the side, between the dance floor and the bar were a group of tables. At one of them Harmony saw Snape and Mag seated, and by the way they were waving their hands about she knew they were in a heated conversation. The two Malfoy's stood next to them leaning against the wall, casting cautionary glances at the witches and wizards around them. Harmony looked at every face around them, but couldn't find Marek. She had a feeling he was somewhere close, keeping an eye on her.

Not wanting to return to her group just yet, she wandered around and kept an eye out for anyone familiar. When a couple moved, she spotted the witch she dueled after Draco, the one that was out of her mind in fear of her. Harmony made her way over to her. The witch sat in a corner, sitting down with a couple other witches with their arms around her for comfort. When the witch looked up and saw Harmony, she squeaked like a mouse and buried her head in one of her friend's shoulders. Her couple of friends glared at her in reproach.

"What do you want?" one of the other witches snapped at Harmony.

"I just wanted to make sure you were okay," Harmony said, suddenly feeling shy. "You seemed a bit frightened when we dueled. I hope you weren't harmed…You don't really seem to be enjoying yourself; from what I hear, this event can become pretty intense."

"What? You think she  _wanted_ to come here?" one of the friends said. "You think she came here just for the enjoyment?" She laughed harshly. "No, she came here for the money."

"You and everyone else," Harmony muttered. "Look, I just wanted you to know I don't mean any harm. Okay?"

The witch pursed her lips and tears shimmered in her soft eyes. She stared at the ground, and after a minute she slowly nodded.

Harmony let out a breath of relief. "Okay. So is there anything I can do? Anything I can get you? A drink?"

"Leaving us alone would be nice," one of the witches said scornfully.

Harmony held back a scoff. "I was just trying to help."

"You've done enough,  _traitor_ ," a man's deep voice said behind her.

She turned and her eyes met silver cloak clasps. Tilting her head back, she looked up into the face of the man that cast the Killing curse on her while they dueled. His height allowed him to tower over her, blocking out the lights from the dance floor.

"Excuse me?" Harmony asked.

He leaned forward and spat on the ground near her boots. "You heard me," he growled.

She tried to smile innocently up at him. "Look, you don't know me and I don't know you, so let's just keep tonight clean. I don't want to start a fight."

"I may not know you," he said angrily, "but my son did. He was a second year at Hogwarts. Charlie Kingston. He may have been young and weak, but Merlin's beard, he was brave." His lips quivered with emotion. "I was one of many responsible in cleaning up your mess after the Battle of Hogwarts. I found my own son's body among the hundreds dead." He growled down at her with his eyes flaming in fury, "After that day, I swore I would hunt the ones responsible down and murder them with my bare hands. When I heard about this Underground dueling tournament, I saw my chance."

Harmony's eyes swelled with tears.  _How horrible!_ She held up her hands and backed away from him slowly. "I'm so terribly sorry about your son. Truly. But I wasn't responsible for the Battle of Hogwarts. I had only just arrived when it was halfway over."

"It doesn't matter  _when_  you arrived. All I care about is that my twelve-year-old son was brutally killed by grown men in battle.  _Your_ men."

" _Mine_?" she exclaimed. "Don't be ridiculous. The Death Eaters didn't follow me. They were following Voldemort's orders that night."

The wizard cringed, along with everyone else in earshot.

"I'm sorry," she said, swallowing back her tears. "I never wanted anyone to come to harm. When I helped the Dark Lord escape, I was ensuring no one else died that night. Please understand."

The wizard looked away from the water welling in her eyes and he crossed his beefy arms over his chest stubbornly. "You can beg all you want, but your repulsive little snake charm says it all. You are not one of the good guys. You've broken the law and you're going to pay for it." He looked back at her. "Just know that the moment you step off grounds, I'll be there—along with everyone else."

With one last fierce look, he turned his back on her and strode away. His words left Harmony cold. She looked around at the countless faces surrounding her. "Everyone else" was staring back at her, and in their eyes she could see his words rang true; behind every hateful glare she knew they were thinking the same idea. She realized now that even after this tournament is finished and won, the battle will be far from over.


	23. Chapter 23

Harmony weaved between the bodies of people pressing in on her from all sides. She needed some space to breath. She escaped the hot huddles of the crowd and ambled back over to her group. Mag and Snape must have just finished their heated argument because her professor's face was flushed red and the two men avoided eye contact. When Snape cast his obsidian eyes on her, they were as sharp as daggers, ready to accuse. Harmony inwardly groaned; she could hear the nasally nagging before the words even left Snape's mouth.

"Where have you been?" he snarled, flying up from his chair. "I told you Draco needed to be with you at all times. What if you were snatched up?" He stabbed a glare at Mag. "No one would've been there to save you."

Harmony looked self-consciously around them. Snape was talking down to her like a child and her face burned with embarrassment. She drew close to him so she didn't have to speak loudly. "I only left to get some air. You don't have to worry-"

She was suddenly cut off short when Snape forced his face close to her own. His abnormally large nose was inches from her mouth and she heard his take a great big whiff. His nostrils flared and he straightened himself with a snap.

"You've been drinking," he said slowly. His eyes were narrowed, only slivers of black. "I can smell it on you." He grasped her shoulders and shook her. "If you are intoxicated right now, I swear I will toss you in an Azkaban cell myself!"

Harmony shrugged his hands off and stepped away. "I can still duel!"

"Your pupils are dilated," he cut through. "How much did you drink?"

"One."

"One keg? One pint?"

"One shot."

Snape stared. Then he sighed and brought a pale hand up to message his temples. "One shot," he said with amusement in his voice. He turned away to move his chair closer to the table and he sat back down with a huff.

"You worry too much about me," she said.

He looked up at her as though he couldn't hear her over the music from the dance floor next to them and Harmony edged closer to speak.

"I don't believe I've ever asked you why you care. Why would you risk your life and reputation to make sure I'm safe?"

Snape's eyes focused on a spot of dirt on the table, a thick greasy strand of black hair fell into his face. Without moving it he said, "Because I promised Albus I would protect you. Or I suppose I should say he  _made_  me promise."

"You mean before you killed him?"

He quickly twisted to stare up at her with a penetrating gaze, and the strand of hair in his face flew back into place. "I never wanted to be the one to take the Headmaster's life. But I always keep my promises, no matter how ghastly. He wanted it to be done, so I did it."

Harmony knew she had hit a nerve in him and she almost recoiled under his gaze as though he was physically inflicting her.

"However…yes, I promised to protect you before he died. Among other reasons, but those reasons are my own."

She was instantly curious, but Mag rudely cut in from across the table.

"Aw, how sweet." His sharp teeth protruded from behind his tight-lipped grin. "I never knew you were the sentimentalist, Sev."

Snape flew over the table like a shot, closing the distance between himself and Mag in a second. His pale hands curled like deathly claws around the Death Eater's collar in a white knuckled grip, and he pulled Mag toward him until they were nose to abnormally large nose.

" _Do not call me that_."

His voice made the hairs on Harmony's arms stand.

Mag tried hard not to smile. She could tell he was pleased with this show of emotion from a usually passive Severus Snape. His black eyes grew wide and innocent, even though the corners of his thin lips curved upward in satisfaction.

"Sure thing," he barked in a high tone like he was trying hard not to laugh. He pressed his lips together tightly as Snape scrutinized him.

Snape released Mag and palmed his chest hard to push the Death Eater back into his seat. With eyes still dangerously cast on Mag's smirking face, he spoke and Harmony stepped closer to hear. "Only one person calls me that."

When Harmony tried to think of whom, Mag mumbled, "Called," emphasizing the past tense. Then she knew. She remembered what Harry had told her at Shell cottage about Snape. He had been madly in love with Harry's mother "and still is."

 _Poor man_ , Harmony thought, thinking about how Lily Potter was most likely the only woman he had ever loved. He wasn't married, so had he just given up after she was murdered, confident he could never love another human being as much?

Harmony ached for him, and her heart raced when she realized she knew exactly how he felt.

She placed a hand on his shoulder lightly and he let it lay there a moment before he turned away and said, "Leave me be."

Harmony nodded in understanding and reclaimed her hand. An uncomfortable silence settled among the group. She faced away from them. To her right was the crowded bar, another ninety degrees to her right was the dueling stage, and a full circle led once again to the dance floor. Only ten to twenty people took up the large space, a very minimal amount compared to the hundreds that came to the event. Harmony was now acutely aware how alluring the beat and rhythm of the music was, and before she knew what she was doing she took a step closer to the dance floor. A new song had just begun, one with a low bass that rumbled deep in her chest cavity, rattling her heart within its cage. She felt her body sway, moving with the music.

_Is winning the tournament so impossible? If and when I win, what then?_

Harmony closed her eyes, her head rolling smoothly back and forth to the separate, single, all-consuming beats.

 _If more Death Eaters are being recruited, they'll all be looking to me for guidance which I don't know how to give_.

Her hips swayed, easy and free and she raised her arms away from her body.

_Voldemort, the man I belong to body and soul, is only days away from possibly being executed. Will I know the moment it happens? Will it hurt, like having half my being ripped away? My other half…_

She raised her arms above her head and ran her fingers through her hair, intertwining them in her curls as though to rip them out of her head. Her eyes scrunched tight as she fought the tantalizing pain of tears wanting to fall.

_How did I get myself in this mess?_

She thought about the millions of other people that could have been chosen to be Voldemort's heir, and she was the one: Muggle-born, best friend to Harry Potter. The odds seemed so far off it was almost like it was meant to be. She was meant to receive the Dark Lord's Serpentine charm, gain his trust, lose it, and fall unexpectedly for him. This was her burden to bear.

Harmony opened her eyes knowing she had a purpose. She wasn't exactly sure what it may be, but it was definitely there, waiting for her to discover it.

A stranger's arm waved in front of her face and she blinked away her thoughts, looking around. She saw in surprise several more people were now gathered around her, dancing to the music. While they all moved as one, she glimpsed into their faces but didn't recognize any of them. They danced around her freely, not fearful or angry. She wondered if perhaps they were Death Eaters, but they looked like normal people with colorful clothes and bright faces.

Liking this little bit of normalcy, she continued to dance, moving her body between the others surrounding her. The others didn't stare at her, but seemed absorbed in their own world with the music like she had been. One boy caught her attention when he moved in close to her. Their eyes met casually, and he smiled. The boy, who was tall with light blond hair and green eyes, touched her hand. She let him take it, enjoying his friendliness, and he twirled her around their little nook on the dance floor between the other dancers. He gazed into her face expectantly and she knew what he was looking for. She gave him a smile. His face broke out into a grin and he laughed, though it was hardly audible over the music.

After a couple songs, the green-eyed boy moved on to some other girl that danced nearby, but other boys where there to take his place. After a while, Harmony forced herself to forget about everything in that moment except for the lull of the music and easy motion of the bodies dancing. She hadn't had this much fun since the Yule Ball in fourth year at Hogwarts. The atmosphere was the same where she could forget the cares of the world behind. But only for a moment.

A boy whirled her around, grasping her hands, and brought her against his lean body. Harmony knew what he was getting at and let him down easily by releasing his hands and spinning, laughing. She wasn't sure how many times she twirled in her little circles, but she was forced to quit when her shoulders bumped another's. The exertion from dancing left her breathless, and she felt lightheaded. To clear her head, she stopped and stood where she was.

Now that Harmony was still, she now noticed how the number of dancers had greatly increased since she began. Looking around, she saw the crowd moving to the beat expanded all the way to the edge of the dance floor. The bright and colorful lights made her hotter as she was cramped in the middle of all those breathless bodies. With sweat slipping past her hairline and down her back, she started to push her way out. There was a little while before her next duel and she wanted to continue dancing, but she needed some fresh air to cool off.

Harmony reached a break in the mass of dancers and saw a familiar figure standing against the wall before her.

Marek stood alone, leaning back with his arms crossed tightly across his chest. She noticed he placed himself away from the others almost like he wanted to make sure she could spot him easily when she left the dance floor. His strange brown eyes found her the moment she saw him. When he noticed her walking toward him, he immediately straightened and stood erect.

"I was wondering where you were," Harmony said loudly over the music.

He seemed surprised by this, but pleased.

"I knew you were keeping an eye on me," she said as she positioned herself next to him against the wall. "It was only a matter of time until I ran into you again before we dueled."

He looked down and she thought maybe he was embarrassed to be caught in the act of watching her. But when he returned his gaze, his eyes were so fierce she almost took a faltering step away. She remembered when he had shamelessly undone her shirt to reveal her Serpentine charm, and she kept in mind that although he was quiet that didn't necessarily mean he was shy.

"You know, you don't talk much," she said sarcastically, and his eyes narrowed with what she guessed was a smile. The bottom half of his face was still covered with the black cloth.

"You're different from the other Death Eaters," she said thoughtfully, and he tilted his head in mirrored questioning. "I don't remember seeing you before the Battle of Hogwarts, so I just assumed you were new. You're different. I just can't put my finger on how."

She remembered when the two Death Eaters caught her at the inn by the sea. Mag had wanted to take her, but Marek had Apparated them away at the last second. He had saved her. Why?

Mag's words echoed in her mind from that moment: "I know you fancy the girl, Marek."

So he liked her.

Harmony's stomach clenched a little and her cheeks flushed. Marek inched toward her when she looked away. Maybe the reason he let her go was because he saw the misery in her eyes at the prospect of going away to be with the Death Eaters. She should be grateful to him.

Harmony looked up and he was standing uncomfortably close. She gave him a half smile. "Do…" she hesitated, and looked everywhere except his wide eyes. "Do you want to dance perhaps?"

Marek's head snapped back a little at her proposal and his eyes roved over to the dance floor in uncertainty. His reluctance make Harmony push on.

"Yeah," she took a step away and waved him over. "Come on, let's dance. You're way too tense, anyway. You could use some release."

He shrugged one of his shoulders and only leaned back against the wall as though hoping it would suck him in, making him disappear.

Harmony laughed at his unease. "It's just dancing." She took his hand and tugged. "Come on, now."

He gave in a little, letting her guide him a couple steps.

"Oh, you'll want to take this off, it gets really hot in there." She reached for his face scarf, ready to tug it down so he could breathe.

Marek shot away from her hand as though it were an animal rearing to harm him. He tore his hand out of hers and retreated back to the safety of the wall. He brushed his fingers over the cloth that concealed his nose and mouth, assuring himself it was still in place.

Harmony watched this in wonder. She was all too familiar with wearing a face scarf, but she had used hers to protect her identity. He seemed to wear his for a more important reason. Then she connected the dots. Not once since she had been in his company had he spoken a word, not one utter of defiance, victory, or contempt. Like he was physically incapable.

Harmony covered her mouth. "Oh, I am so sorry," she said between her fingers. "I just thought, I don't know, you wore the scarf for some other reason." Her imagination raced as she thought about what he looked like beneath the cloth. She felt bad for almost revealing it, whatever he looked like.

She stepped towards him slowly, like she was assuring him she meant no harm. Thankfully, he let her take his hand again when she reached for it. She pulled him out once more towards the dancers.

"It's okay," she said. "You can wear that if you like. I just thought you might be more comfortable with it off, but it's okay."

His eyes didn't leave her as she led him through the labyrinth of people. She wanted to return to the best spot on the dance floor, at the very heart of the crowd. When they reached there, she saw sweat already breaking out on his forehead beneath his dark bangs, but he didn't seem to mind. She began to sway to the music, but Marek was as ridged as a board. Suppressing a laugh, she placed her hands firmly on his shoulders and delicately moved him from side to side. After a while he rocked by himself without her help. She dropped her hands, but he caught them and wrapped them around his neck.

They danced among the others, moving with the hundreds as one. Marek cast uneasy glances at the dancers around them at first, but he relaxed as the songs went on. The lull and rhythm seemed to have the same effect on him like it had on Harmony, and he moved to the music, giving in to its sweet release. As she watched him, she wondered if it would be at all possible to be this man's friend. Perhaps, somehow, he could be swayed from Mag in order to help her. She sensed a fierceness within him, like he contained a deep power that could maybe come to use to protect her. Could she trust him?

Marek's eyes, which had been closed as he listened to the music, flicked open and focused on Harmony as though he had heard her thoughts. They stared at each other until someone suddenly bumped him from behind. He fell forward, wrapping his arms around Harmony for support. It all happened so quickly. He looked down at her lips and Harmony could see the lust in his eyes. He leaned forward as though to kiss her, but stopped suddenly, remembering that he wore the face scarf.

Harmony pulled away, but Marek was gone soon after. He turned around and pushed his way out of the crowd; Harmony followed with her heart sunken to her stomach. When they were free she hurried up to him and spoke in his ear.

"I'm sorry. I never meant to lead you on, if that's what you were thinking." Of course he didn't reply. Harmony smiled sadly. "The thing is…I'm interested in someone else."

That caught his attention and he looked down at her intently.

"Well," she went on, "it's a bit complicated, a thing of dreams you could say, but I know I belong with him."

His dark eyebrows rose and he tilted his head.

Harmony nodded. "If you're thinking who I believe you're thinking, then yes."

He blinked and she could imagine the hundreds of unspoken thoughts going on inside his head. He took a moment to mull them over, then he slowly nodded.

"Hey, Hangleton!" she heard a familiar voice shout. " _Granger_!"

She spun around and saw Mag and Snape coming towards them. Mag thrust a thumb over his shoulder.

"You're on soon, my Lady," he said. "You better hurry."

Harmony nodded and with one last glance at Marek, she rushed off to the dueling stage.


	24. Chapter 24

The duels came non-stop, and each one blurred into the other: cast spell, block spell, repeat. She encountered Aurors she recognized from her previous life, ones she had seen walking the cobble stones of Diagon Alley or the Departments of the Ministry. Only few did she recognize were from Hogwarts, most of which were from Slytherin and they treated her like equals. For once.

And she won. Each and every time.

She was booed and she was cheered. But,  _the strangest thing_ , the latter seemed to increase over time. After she dueled one particular bloke who was quick to use the Unforgivable curses, a man approached her when she left stage and shook her hand. He neither smiled nor sneered, but said one thing before walking away.

"You're what we call a lenient dueler; you always respect your opponent by letting them go first. It is a rarity to see such esteem."

It was true. She still waited until her competitor cast first, except in special cases like the Death Eaters. Several more times she encountered witches and wizards who refused to duel with her; they only bowed and let her win. This was what caused most of the booing. Other competitors in the crowd thought it was unfair she could progress in the tournament without even fighting. But no one disqualified her, because—of course—there were no rules on the dueling stage. So she progressed throughout the night and the competition increased.

Mag had just won another duel and Harmony had to duel one more until they would need to compete each other. To have some relief from the busy crowd, she escaped into the solitude of the dueler's tent to wait for her next opponent. Resting on one of the benches near the entrance, she watched as a woman walked in and she instantly disliked her. The tall woman had black short-cropped hair and gray eyes. Her thin lips twisted into a mocking smile when she saw Harmony.

While she strutted over, she said in an annoying soprano voice, "I've been looking forward to finally meeting you. You don't know who I am, do you? No, I didn't think so. Well, anyway, I'm one of your boyfriend's babysitters." Her thin lips tightened and she giggled. The tall woman dropped down on the bench across from Harmony who looked at her quizzically.

"My boyfriend?" Harmony asked.

"You-Know-Who, Nutcase, Loony, He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named-Because-No-One-Cares."

Harmony narrowed her eyes at this woman and her hate doubled like dried tinder thrown into a blazing fire. She swallowed back her anger and said as calm as possible, "You mean Voldemort? So you work at Menkar insane asylum?"

"I'm one of many that work there. When he first arrived, there were hundreds of us to look after him. But I'm telling you, that man is  _pathetic_ ; he can't even speak." She laughed shrilly. "Me and my coworkers were temporarily laid off because Menkar figured they didn't need so many people to look after one useless has-been. So we came here to have some fun until Menkar called us back for his execution. That's right, sweetheart, when your dear lover gets the Dementor's Kiss I'm going to have prime seats. My friends are already taking bets on how long it'll take him to keel over. Given he hardly has a soul, it shouldn't take long at all. Oh, I'm going to let you win this duel, because I  _so_ want the Ministry to capture you;  _that_  way we can get a  _double_  execution." The woman squealed like a little girl, twiddling her fingers together. "How would you like that, Mudblood? To die at the side of your lover?" She snorted, and then screamed when Harmony launched and tackled her to the ground.

Harmony wrapped her fingers around the pesky woman's neck and shook her. The woman screamed at the top of her lungs, more out of shock than pain. At the sounds of struggle, several people rushed into the dueler's tent. A couple men hurried to them, wrapping their arms around Harmony and pulling them apart.

"Get that lunatic off me!" the woman shouted in a tone that was greatly irritating.

Harmony suddenly found herself shouting back, "He won't die!" They hauled her off to the opposite end of the tent. "He won't die, because he can't die! I won't let him!"

"Look at her," the woman said in disbelief. "She's absolutely mad!"

"You are ignorant and-"

"Calm down, miss," said one of the men who held her down.

"No," spoke up another. "They're about to duel each other. Just throw them on stage and let them deal with it."

The others agreed and they directed both woman to the stage and backed off once they made it up the flight of stairs. Harmony was boiling and the woman now looked more unsettled than before as she stood at the opposite end. They didn't bow. The woman had said she was going to let Harmony win, and now Harmony was more than willing to take advantage of that. In one swift motion she went straight from dueling stance to sending a curse at the woman, aiming straight for her cold gray eyes. When it satisfyingly reached its mark, the woman's head snapped back, and her short-cropped hair flipped into her face. She let loose an unnecessarily loud yell.

"My eyes, my eyes!" she cried. She covered her face with her hands, rubbing and scratching. She stumbled about the stage and screamed when she tipped over the edge. It took the crowd by surprise, but she was caught just before she hit the floor.

Harmony ignored her name as it exploded over their heads. She exited the stage, fists balled, wanting to run over to the woman and punch her right between those cold eyes. But the faces of the cheering fans pacified her.

She didn't want to think about what the woman had said about the execution. But what if she  _was_  captured and the two of them were killed together? She wondered if when it happened—as the Dementors flew above them—if Voldemort would look at her and finally know who she was. Would a small glint of recognition brighten his piercing blue eyes before his soul left his body? The thought was painful to comprehend, but if he could remember her in their dreams, then there  _had_  to be  _some way_ to make him remember in the waking world. He wasn't completely lost. There had to be some way to bring him back.

Ideas consumed her as she was pushed back to the stage and put before Magnus Crotchet. Mag's dark eyes glinted as he looked at her, like he constantly had dangerous thoughts flying through his mind. They walked towards each other and when they bowed he said respectfully, "My Lady," before turning away. Harmony had expected  _something_  from Mag—some kind of curse or spell, no matter how simple or complex. But when they faced one another after their steps, he bowed like all the other Death Eaters.

Harmony was with the crowd when they booed. The Death Eaters faithfully giving in was becoming embarrassing. It made her look weak and pompous. She just wished they put in some effort to make it look less like she had ordered them to stand down.

Feeling agitated, she stalked off stage and met with her group. She went straight to Marek and grasped the front of his robes, pulling him close.

"Promise me that when we duel, you will not give in like all the others. You will fight me, understand?"

He advert her gaze, hesitant.

She tugged him closer and he was forced to meet her eyes. "Promise me," she hissed.

They stared at each other for a moment before he took hold of her hand and uncurled her fingers from his cloak. He released her and merely walked away.

As the night progressed, the crowd steadily became more unsettled like a busy beehive. They hungered for more action. They wanted blood. Several times already, Harmony witnessed lives lost.

Time quickly passed. She watched as Marek flew through his competitors like they were bothersome ants that needed to be squished with his thumb. He presented no air of self-importance, just acceptance that he could fight well and win. Harmony began to understand what made him so good: he showed no fear. He wasn't afraid to die and that set him apart from every other person in the vast room.

Harmony had just finished a duel when the dueling organizer informed her she was now in the quarter finals. She needed to duel two more people before she won the tournament. This news overfilled her with joy. She always loved to come out on top in whatever she strived to achieve. And at dueling! Defense Against the Dark Arts was the only class—besides Divination—that she didn't get an Outstanding in. If only Harry and Ron could see her now. They would be so proud.

The final four gathered in the dueler's tent. Harmony was to fight some elderly wizard in long green robes and Marek was to face off with a wizard from Romania. Harmony was up first. When she walked out of the tent to the stage, the first thing she noticed was the silence. The music from the dance floor was gone and everyone was now gathered around. When she stepped onto the stage, some people called out bits of encouragement like "Long live our Lady." Harsh words were also heard, but they were muttered under people's breath as though they were less confident in their meaning.

Harmony and her opponent bowed to each other.

"I'm going to burn you," he said, just loud enough so only she could hear. The second he turned, he waved his wand.

" _Incendio!_ "

Harmony saw a blazing flash at the tip of his wand, and suddenly she was burning. Her corset was set aflame. She called out in alarm and quickly doused the fire. The flames had burned through her corset, revealing the whale bone supports in the waist. The crowd waited breathlessly for her reaction.

Harmony cast several  _Stupefy_ 's, but the old man blocked one after the other. She produced a blinding flash of light; even with her eyes closed the light seared her eyeballs. The crowd groaned painfully when they had to avert their gaze. She opened her eyes, but a red and white blotch clouded her sight, momentarily blinding her. But even though she couldn't see, she had to make her move before her opponent did.

" _Incarcerous!_ " Harmony shouted and ropes flew from her wand. With satisfaction, she heard the elderly man cry out. There was a loud  _thump_  as his body landed on the stage. She blinked away the last of the red and white blotches over her eyes. At the opposite end, the old man in green robes was tied up and wiggling furiously on the floor of the stage. But her success was short-lived.

" _Diffindo!_ " the man shouted and the ropes severed cleanly down his front. He shook them off and jumped quickly to his feet.

They cast back and forth with a torrent of fire. There were blasts of light shooting out of their wands and explosions of shield charms. Just looking at the crowd, it would have been thought they were enjoying a fireworks show. Harmony was only able to gain the upper hand after doing a Confundus charm when he released his shield to send a spell at her. Her  _Confundo_  hit him directly in the head and he staggered back a couple steps. Everything had become quiet as the dueling came to a standstill. A look of confusion came on the old man's face; he furrowed his bushy white eyebrows and glanced around as though he wasn't sure where he was. He mumbled something like, "The muffins should be ready," and he tumbled off stage.

Her name exploded overhead and the crowd broke out into cheers. She left the stage and was met with a mass of arms and smiles. Death Eaters and average witches and wizards alike embraced her and sang with congratulations. She grinned and returned their encouragement and affection with thanks. Snape grasped her shoulder, Mag gave her a bear hug, Narcissa nodded with a small smile, and Draco rolled his eyes.

She was pushed back to the dueler's tent and entered the same moment Marek and his competitor from Romania walked out. He glanced at her and she saw a small glimmer of pride in his eyes. She was alone in the large tent and chose a seat at the very center. Closing her eyes, she grasped the wood beneath her and took a deep breath. She felt some relief knowing the night was nearly over, but her stomach was in knots for what she was about to face. Not only will she have to battle her last competitor, but she will have to fight through the crowd of people that  _weren't_  cheering at her success.

Harmony brought a hand up and rubbed her ruined corset, parts of her skin were an unnerving pink. When she touched the burn, she hissed with pain and quickly pulled away. She would need to put some salve on the wounds later. Perhaps Snape would be able to help her with that.

By coincidence, the potions professor flew in through the tent flap and rushed over to her.

"We have this tournament already won," he said, looking down at her. "Marek will give in—as it is his duty as a Death Eater not to cause you harm—and the prize money will be ours."

Harmony shook her head. "I specifically told him not to give in."

He frowned. " _Why_  would you do that?"

"Because it isn't fair."

"Fair?" he said, raising his voice. "It is his duty! He will not fight you because you are the Dark Lord's chosen one. None of the Death Eaters would dare raise a wand against you."

"But he must do as I say, mustn't he?" she said. "Wasn't that my purpose, to take control and give orders? So I will order him to fight and must do as I say."

Snape's mouth hung open slightly in mute fury. When Harmony only stared back with unwavering directness, he gnashed his teeth and turned away. He groaned with exasperation and strode out of the tent grumbling, "Infuriating woman."

Harmony waited alone, left to listen and guess at what was going on outside of her enclosure. Like before, the crowd was silent as they waited hungrily for the action. She jumped when the first spell was cast; lights burst from behind the tent fabric, but she couldn't see who the owners of the spells were. There was a familiar burst of blue light and the crowd groaned.

A bloodcurdling shriek echoed throughout the room. It was closely followed by another call of pain and she could imagine seeing the owner of the voice writhing on the stage. Slowly, just like what happened when she dueled Draco, the crowd started to chant, "Finish him. Finish him."

Another wail of pain, long and drawn out. Then suddenly there was a burst of light and the yell was cut short. The lights exploded the name of the winner, and there was scattered applause. Either people weren't impressed or they were too shocked at what they just witnessed. Harmony feared it was the latter. She looked up when the tent flap was pushed aside and her final opponent walked in.

Marek found her sitting at the center of the tent and they looked at each other for a moment. She nodded in congratulations. He let the tent flap fall behind him as he came over to sit next to her on the bench, silent as usual. They sat shoulder-to-shoulder and knee-to-knee, saying nothing in a companionable silence.

Snape burst in and he stomped over to Marek. The professor glared down at the Death Eater with cold eyes. "You will let her win, do you understand me? If you care about the life of the  _chosen one,_ then you will give in. We need the prize money more than you."

"Sir, please," Harmony said, standing up. "I've already told him what I wanted and now it's his decision."

"I don't care," he replied. Then he pointed a finger in her face. "And you best stay out of this. I am only doing what is best."

She stepped in front of Marek, pushing Snape aside. "You know what I want."

Marek looked up at her and nodded.

"It's time," said the dueling organizer.

Snape left, leaving Marek and Harmony alone. He stood up from the bench and they shook hands.

The dueling organizer held the tent flap open for them, and side-by-side they stepped out to face the crowd. Harmony swallowed, feeling sweat trickle down her back as she returned the gaze of the hundred pairs of eyes watching her every move. She and Marek ascended to the stage together. Once in position, Harmony pretended it was only them in the entire room. The others faded into the background, disappearing into the walls.

Harmony took a deep breath and she took her first step. Marek mirrored her exactly. They bowed deeply to one another and turned away at the same moment. As Harmony took her ten steps away, she tried to put all other thoughts aside. Instead, she focused on the present, on which spells and charms she knew. When she turned on her heel to face the Death Eater, the crowd held their breath for the first spell to be cast for the final duel.

Harmony swooped down into her stance, watching her opponent closely. She waited, as well as everyone else, for him to move. She saw him clenching and unclenching his wand into a fist; he was irritated and indecisive. She could see the battle raging in his eyes.

Then, in a dramatic swoop, he bowed low and submissive.

The crowd broke out into a rage. Everyone booed and shouted, yelling insults at Marek. People pushed in on them from all sides. The stage was like an island in a tumultuous sea. Harmony made sure to remain in her dueling stance, but Marek stood out of his bow and beheld the anger surrounding them.

Her name hadn't appeared in the air, so the Underground dueling competition hosts were still deciding whether to let her win. Hands reached up from the ground floor and snatched at Marek's legs. He kicked them away.

"Marek!" she shouted.

His head snapped to her.

She looked at him in desperation. "Please, Marek."

He looked away.

"Please."

More hands reached for him, and there were even a few daring wizards that waved their wands threateningly at the Death Eater. He looked down at them, their faces screwed up with hatred, then to Harmony and her pleading eyes. He gripped his wand and faced her.

Out of respect, he bowed. Then he moved into a dueling stance.

The jeers ceased and were replaced by enthusiastic applause. Harmony restrained her grateful smile. She nodded and Marek cast the first spell.

He was fast, but he kept his power light and Harmony knew he was holding back. This annoyed her at first, but then she began to enjoy just bantering spells back and forth. It was rather enjoyable. They used  _Stupefy_ 's and  _Expelliarmus_ ' most often, but to spice things up, they resorted to more imaginative casts. She thought of the spells Voldemort had taught her in their lessons. She remembered them as though it was yesterday.

They went on and on as though they could have fought late into the morning, but Harmony finally decided to end it, and with a nod from Marek, he agreed. He waved his wand about in a flourish, pretending to wind up for a dramatic cast, and Harmony quickly shot a  _Petrificus Totalus_ at his chest. His arms snapped to his sides and his heels clicked together. He wavered a bit on stage, but then he fell back and the thick crowd behind caught him in their arms.

Harmony's name exploded into a torrent of gold and silver sparks, showering from the sky and sprinkling the tops of people's heads. The shouts and applause nearly brought Harmony to deafness. She closed her eyes and smiled, absorbing the moment so she could remember it forever. The exaltation from the people below lifted her spirits and her soul soared over the hundreds of bodies surrounding her. People jumped on the stage and picked her up. They lifted her on their shoulders and carried her away. She received pats on the back and shook hands with everyone who reached for her. After she was passed around, they carried her back to the stage where a couple wizards were waiting. She spotted one who was holding a very large bag with what had to be the prize galleons and she laughed aloud with excitement. The hosts made her award ceremony short and sweet by announcing her name and handing over her prize. She held it over her head and the crowd went wild.

Her group made their way over to her and she jumped down to meet them. Immediately she handed Snape the galleons and he quickly hid the bag in his cloak. Narcissa shook her hand, but when Harmony saw Marek approach them she pulled away and wrapped her arms around his neck in hug. Snape's and Mag's eyes grew wide with surprise at this spontaneous show of affection.

"Thank you," she said in his ear.

In reply, he tightened embrace her but was hasty to let go. Snape leaned in close to speak in her ear.

"We must leave straight away."

She nodded and began to lead the way back to the elevators. She received congratulations as she wove between the witches and wizards. Some shook her hand, while others only left themselves to glare at her with mistrust. One person slammed into her shoulder unnecessarily rough. She glanced behind her and saw with a sickening feeling that people were following her, and they didn't look happy. Surely, there was going to be more unhappy people outside the warehouse to meet her. She bit her lip and tried to pretend she didn't notice them, when she turned back around and accidentally walked right into a man.

"Whoa!" he said theatrically in a familiar voice.

Harmony jumped away and looked up into the wizard's face.

Zeth grinned down at her as though he already had her locked behind bars. She tried to jump away from his reach, but he shot his hands out like snakes and grabbed her in an iron grip.

"Where are you going so fast?" he asked.

She winced as his fingers cut off the circulation in her hands. "Zeth?" she said nonchalantly, "How's the trading business treating you?"

He pursed his lips. "Hm, not that well. I've been spending my precious time hunting you down, of course."

"I've heard. Sounds overly ambitious."

"I wouldn't say that. After all, I've got my hands on you now, don't I? I've been waiting a long time for you. With you turned in, I'll finally get the reward I deserve."

"I'm not going anywhere with you," she said coldly.

He tightened his grip on her. "You're beaten, my dear. Take a look around you. Everyone  _hates_  you. They want you dead. They're not going to stop me. It's you against the hundreds of us."

Harmony cast her eyes around them, becoming even more aware of the cheering faces turning sour. She returned her gaze to the trader and whispered, "Please don't do this."

Zeth laughed aloud. "So she's begging now!" Laughter scattered from the people around them. "It's too late for that now, traitor. It's over." He tugged on her wrists, bringing her closer to him, and he began dragging her away to the elevators.

"No!" she called out, trying to pull away. "I don't want to hurt you! But I will if you don't let go right  _now!_ "

Zeth's laugh was harsh. "You wouldn't dare. You would just be kicked out and thrown outside the warehouse,  _right_  where we want you."

She fought him furiously. When he almost lost his grip on her, he brought a hand back and brought it down on her face with a stomach-turning  _slap_. Harmony groaned and staggered; the right side of her face burned where he hit her and stars danced before her eyes. Zeth tugged her along and she couldn't help but give in.

Where was Snape? Where was Mag? Where were all the Death Eaters that were supposed to keep her from harm?

Harmony looked over her shoulder as Zeth pushed the button on the elevator to go up. There was a large group of people slowly following them, and they stopped and stared as she and Zeth waited to get out of there. But then she saw a figure moving through the group, swift and sure. Marek—his large brown eyes dangerously zeroed on Zeth—strode between the people and approached them. Without blinking, he raised his wand and pointed the tip at her capture's chest. A horrifyingly familiar emerald green light illuminated their corner of the room and the pressure on her wrist eased. When the green light dispersed, Zeth was on the ground motionless.

Harmony gasped in horror. "Y-you," she stammered, "You  _killed_  him!" She tried to find some trace of human regret in Marek's eyes but saw none.

Shouts of protest filled the air. People were severely upset by Marek's breaking the rules, and out of nowhere appeared two burly wizards. They grasped his shoulders and pulled him away. Marek didn't fight them, only gave Harmony one last look before being forced into the other elevator. The crowd seemed to suddenly turn on her. People's attention had returned to her full force, and she saw nothing but furious looks, as though they blamed her for the reason Zeth was killed.

She moved away, and her back hit the elevator bars. With a twinge of hope, she saw her group rushing over to her with Snape in the lead.

"I told you!" he shouted, reaching a hand into his cloak. "I told you, you have to leave  _now!_ " He pulled out the large bag of galleons and tossed it to her. She caught it, hearing the gold jangle together. Snape looked behind him and spotted Draco. He grabbed the young wizard by the collar and tugged him forward. He threw Draco at Harmony and yelled, "Leave! Now!"

They nodded, both their eyes filled with fear. As if to answer Snape's call, the ding of the elevator went off and the golden bars opened. Draco and Harmony ran inside, retreating as far away from the doors as possible. Angry people hurried forward to catch them but Snape, Mag, and Narcissa fought them off until the doors closed. Harmony could only stare at their enraged faces as the elevator began to move upward. If everyone down here was so infuriated, she couldn't even imagine what horrors resided for her up above.


	25. Chapter 25

The elevator shuddered as it ascended, and Harmony's legs quivered with apprehension. She grasped her wand to her chest like a shield. Draco trembled beside her. She looked over at him out of the corner of her eyes, but he stared forward blankly at the golden bars of their cage.

"You'd best pull out your wand," she said. Her voice hadn't been louder than a whisper, but Draco jumped anyway and grabbed his wand from his pocket.

"Why should  _I_  worry," he said, his voice sounding tired and strained. " _You're_  the one they're after."

Harmony reached a hand out and grasped his wrist where she knew the Dark Mark resided under his sleeve, "Because of this."

"I'm no Death Eater."

"Irrelevant," she said firmly. "As long as you have this, the Ministry will always be on your back. You're wanted. Perhaps not as much as Voldemort or I, but you will live with their eyes watching you until the day you die."

Draco closed his eyes tight. His jaw clenched as he gnashed his teeth together, like he was trying to suppress a whimper of fear.  _Yeah_ , Harmony thought,  _I know that feeling_.

The elevator jolted as it reached the top of its journey to the surface.

"Stay close to me," she said urgently before elevator opened.

He didn't reply, but somehow she knew he was listening.

"When the doors open, we run. The anti-Apparition shield is a hundred yards from here. That's our goal. The moment we pass the barrier, we Apparate. Okay?"

He nodded. She could see the beads of sweat breaking out on his hairline, mingling with white blonde strands. His cold eyes were wide, the whites shining in the dim light of the elevator. She could see he was legitimately afraid, and it made her stronger.

There was a small  _ding_  from the elevator. Harmony held her breath as the doors opened and the golden bars of their cage lifted. She waited for the flashing wand lights, the yelling and screaming of witches and wizards to fire at will. An eerie feeling crept over her—physically tingling down her fingers and toes—when they were met by complete silence. The warehouse was empty of people. Harmony poked her head out, glancing left and right for some moving shadows trying to surprise them.

" _Homenum Revelio_ ," she whispered, waving her wand about the length of the warehouse. No one revealed themselves: they were alone.

Draco followed her when she stepped out. A couple windows took up both sides of the heavy wooden door and she went over to peer outside. The sky was pink with the dawn, but the sun was still a long way from coming over the horizon. Harmony guessed the time was about four-thirty to five o'clock in the morning. The small farm houses in the distance were dark, and the valleys and fields surrounding them were silent. If she hadn't known any better, she would have thought this was just another normal country-side morning. But the forests beyond the fields had to be crawling with witches and wizards, waiting like lions for their prey.

Harmony bit her lip and tapped her fingers on the sill contemplatively.

She heard the heavy wooden door open and looked over just in time to see Draco step outside the warehouse.

"Draco, no!" She sprinted after him. He was running off to the left, away from the farm houses, towards the dark forest. She quickly gained on him and reached a hand out to grab his collar, but something caught both of their eyes. Throughout the length of the forest, near the trunks of the trees, wand lights appeared. Harmony's jaw dropped in awe when she beheld the sight of the small army. Some shout out battle cries and fled from the concealment of the forest as one, running right towards them.

Draco's step faltered for only a moment, but he continued on in resolution. "Keep running!" he shouted. "We have to keep running to reach the barrier!"

Harmony knew he was right even though they would be running straight at the torrent of angry witches and wizards. It was suicidal, but if they could Disapparate the moment they passed the anti-Apparition shield, they wouldn't have to risk their lives by sticking around to fight. She ran close to his side, gripping her wand more firmly in her fist. Her leg muscles burned furiously as she pumped them as fast as she could. The army of Ministry officials pointed their wands at them as they ran towards each other, and Harmony could almost feel the tingle of magic in the air as it formed and burst from their wands.

Harmony called out, and a second before the spells hit the pair of them, she jumped at Draco to wrap her arms around his shoulders. Surging forth energy in her core, she produced a  _Cascadia_  and the protective light erupt from her body, concealing the both of them. Their legs knotted together and they stumbled to the ground. They looked up from between the long blades of grass at the half-sphere of blinding blue light covering them. Draco pushed Harmony off and they stood, staring at the witches and wizards on the outside of the shield. The air was still thick with the anti-Apparition shield. They still had a little ways to go before reaching the barrier.

"Brilliant," Draco said derisively. He turned to her. "What now?"

"You could start by thanking me," Harmony said testily. "I just saved your life."

"Yes, well," he sniffed, looking away. "I suppose I shouldn't thank you just yet taken we're  _still in the middle of a mob who want to kill us_."

"You're welcome," Harmony mumbled, and then she paused to think a moment. Colorful lights exploded against the  _Cascadia_  shield as the witches and wizards outside tried to break in. "I can get us out of here. I'll need to create a  _Cascadia Maxima_  to push them away, but I won't be able to do it alone. One way I can produce enough energy is if I'm emotionally stressed, which—involving you—is no difficult feat, but it takes longer than if we just combined our powers."

"Combine?" Draco asked, with a quirked eyebrow. "But I don't know how to make one of those…those things."

"If you knew how to make a  _Cascadia_  that would certainly help, but I think it would be enough if you shared some of your energy with me, so I can produce it myself." She held a hand out to him, and he stared at it. Harmony sighed. "Draco, please, I know combining magic with another person usually takes trust, but believe me when I say I want to be away from here as much as you do."

He took a moment to glance at the angry mob outside of her protection, and with a repressed grimace, he slipped his hand into hers. Harmony's hand grew warm as magical energy passed from him into her. She gathered the magic at her center and it grew, expanding like a balloon being filled with scalding oil, threatening to burst any moment. Harmony scrunched her eyes shut, gritting her teeth to hold back a gasp, and she gripped Draco's hand tighter. Her energy began to overflow, and she took a deep breath; the burning magic filled her every vein. On the exhale, she cried out and released her magical force. Bright blue lights flashed behind her eyelids like lightening. Instantly, she felt relief as she was eased from her burden. There was silence for a moment, but cries could be heard off in the distance. She was only half-aware when the lights stopped pulsing from her body, and her arm felt like it was being pulled from its socket. Her feet started moving in the direction she was being tugged along.

The  _Cascadia Maxima_  had depleted her energy and she was beginning to feel the lethargic after-affects. Her eyelids were heavy with weariness and she lost focus of what was going on around her. Her feet tripped and she stumbled. She fell to her knees and pain shot up her legs. Arms wrapped under her armpits and quickly jerked upward to pick her up off the ground. Her head spun at this action and she groaned in protest. She began to have tunnel vision and neared unconsciousness, but she willed herself—with all the energy reserves she had left—to keep awake.

Suddenly, she was dropped to the ground. The wet grass chilled her bare skin and soaked into her clothes. One side of her face planted into the soft earth and she licked her lips, tasting the cool dew. She heard heavy panting nearby. Opening one eye, she saw Draco gasping, hands on knees. He glanced over his shoulder, and with renewed urgency, he turned back to her on the ground. He grasped one of her hands and tried to pick her up, but her dead weight was too much. She tried to move her limbs but couldn't stand. Draco released her hand and stared down at her for a moment; his pale eyebrows were high on his forehead with uncertainty. Suddenly he surprised Harmony by dropping to his knees and bending over to lay his body on top of her.

Harmony's muddled mind was outraged that her enemy would dare touch her in such a way and she prepared to scream at him to get off of her. But she was cut off by the familiar pull of Apparition as they were sucked into the black hole. When they arrived, her face landed onto sharp and uneven gravel. Draco got off and she took in a loud lungful of air.

"Where are we?" she asked, pushing her palms into the rough ground and making an effort to stand.

"The shack," he replied snottily.

Harmony looked up, expecting to see four small walls and a roof in shambles. But she gasped in wonder. The house was large with Victorian architecture and wrap-around porch. Two pillars guarded the door, and with a closer look she saw rose stems etched into the stone.

"It's beautiful," she said softly.

"Of course  _you_  would think so," Draco replied. "Compared to the Muggle shoe box you probably live in, this must look like a castle." He ignored her livid glare and continued, "No, this is nothing. You should have seen the Manor. That place was at least inhabitable. Here I have just one bedroom. Can you believe that?"

While he led her inside, Draco went on and on about how his family had to fire their servants after the Battle of Hogwarts. The heavy oak door opened as he approached and he strode through without slowing. They entered a large lobby and a chandelier lit up above their heads. She gaped up at the glittering lights and grunted when she ran smack into Draco's back. He flipped around to face her, his eyes narrowed in offense, and he pointed a finger at the room on her right.

"Living room." He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "Kitchen." He pointed to the stairs on her left. "Bedrooms." He dropped his arm. "Welcome to the Malfoy shack."

"Thank you," Harmony said halfheartedly. When Draco raised an eyebrow, she clarified, "I mean, thank you for letting me come here. I really needed a place to-"

"I didn't do this for you," he said plainly, looking at his nails. "Snape asked my mum tonight if you two could lay low here for a day or so and she said yes as long as you weren't followed." After Harmony's questioning look, he continued, "The main reason we moved was so we could escape from any surviving Death Eaters. My family no longer wants to be involved, especially with You-Know-Who dead."

"He's not dead yet," Harmony stressed defensively.

He stopped cleaning his nails and looked up at her with a shrug. "Why do you care?" He shook his head and looked away before she could answer. "My father should be home from work soon. I'm sure he's heard about the battle at the tournament. He'll be worried about mother and me." He walked away, going into the kitchen. She looked around her unfamiliar surroundings. The living room looked comfortable with lush green couches, but her stomach was eager for some breakfast, so she followed Draco.

The kitchen was rather large, bigger than her kitchen at home with an island in the center and iron stove tops. It wasn't particularly clean; there were dishes in the sink and old bread crusts sitting beside a dull knife. She heard Draco sifting through a pantry and he came out with a jar of jelly in his hand.

"That's it?" Harmony asked, amused.

He didn't meet her eyes. "I'm not sure what to do with the rest of the rubbish in there." When Harmony snickered, he snapped, "I've never cooked, alright! I never had to. The house elves always did the work."

She pushed him aside and stepped into the pantry. After a bit of searching, she found enough ingredients to make a measly meal. She brought the food out and set them on the counter. Using the dull knife, she made a couple sandwiches, handing one to Draco. He scrutinized the food longer than necessary and sniffed it a couple times. Finally, he sat down at the table and tentatively began to eat. Harmony could've accompanied him, but the silence as they ate was too awkward so she left to find someplace to eat by herself. Remembering the living room, she left the kitchen and made herself at home on one of the couches near the window that showed the sun peeking up over the horizon.

As she ate her small breakfast, her thoughts drifted to Snape. Had he made it out of the tournament alive? And what about Narcissa? Harmony could just imagine Draco's and Lucius' grief in finding out their mother and wife was dead. And what about herself? What would become of her? With Snape gone, she'd have to set out on her own. But where? Snape had been smart enough to toss her the bag of galleons before she and Draco escaped. Maybe she should go through with Snape's plan and buy the Polyjuice ingredients. It was the safest way to handle her situation, to hide and run. But she never liked running; that had grown old soon after escaping Shell cottage.

Perhaps she made a mistake by running away from Voldemort after she erased his memory. She could have stayed with him, taken care of him. Maybe, somehow, she could have figured out how to return his memories. She had been afraid when he became angry with her. Maybe she overreacted by erasing his memory. Perhaps they both overreacted.

When Harmony was done with her sandwich, she brought her knees up to her chest and sat there with her head in her lap. A thought popped into her head, telling her how much she wished she could go to Menkar wizard asylum and see Voldemort, to touch him again and know he's still real and not some dream.

She gave a tired sigh and scooted over to stretch out on the length of the couch. She closed her heavy eyelids, and everything became quiet.

Images flashed behind her eyes. Images of Draco walking into the competitor's tent, of her holding up the prize money, of all those people cheering for her, of Marek simply walking up to Zeth and murdering him. The green flash from the Killing curse blinded her and when the light died away, she was walking in the field next to the forest by Riddle mansion. The hem of a green velvet dress whipped at her knees in the wind. She held her hands out at her sides and the top of the grass grazed her palms and fingertips. She felt an immense peace, like she was at the right place at the right time. Walking away from Riddle mansion towards the forest, a voice suddenly called out to her.

"Hermione!"

Her heart swelled in her chest at the familiarity of the voice and she turned to face them. But no one was there. Her smile fell, her eyes grew large in fear, and her blood ran cold when she saw that Riddle mansion was engulfed in flames. The fire was so large that she could feel the intense heat all the way from where she stood.

Where was he? Where was the voice that called her name?

She jumped when a window on the first floor exploded and a figure fell through, completely engulfed in fire. Harmony screamed.

She opened her eyes. The living room was now completely dark, as though someone had closed the drapes on the window while she slept. Her throat was sore with use. She must have really screamed and she was embarrassed to think Draco had heard.

Then a warm hand rested on her forehead, pushing back the hair from her face. She was thankful for the comfort.

"How long have I been out?" she asked the owner of the hand.

"You never woke," he said.

The breath caught in her throat and she sat forward to reach out to him. Her hands touched his usual robes and she trailed up his chest, broad shoulders, neck and face in one swift motion.

"Why can't I see you?" she asked, wanting to see his icy blue eyes looking at her in their usual hungry way. She felt the corners of his lips curving upward, and she sighed, "How can you be smiling at a time like this? You're supposed to be executed soon."

He replied in a surprisingly light tone, "I am not worried."

"So how is it we keep ending up in each other's dreams?"

He replied in a more serious tone, "You know why."

Harmony caressed the side of his face thoughtfully. She did know the answer, and it almost scared her. The reason was simply because that was how it was supposed to be; whether she liked it or not, they needed to be together and Harmony felt somewhat ashamed that she needed a dream to tell her that. Harmony inched toward him, extending her neck so her face was closer to his. Using touch, she centered on where his lips were.

"I miss you," she whispered.

He chuckled and his breath was hot on her face when he purred, "Good."

Harmony inhaled as he spoke and his breath mingled on her tongue. She eagerly leaned forward to place her lips on his. More and more she leaned until she was halfway off the couch. Then she slipped and fell face-first onto the hard wood floor and jolted completely awake. The searing morning sun poured through the window in the living room. She sat up on the floor, rubbing her nose which had taken most of the impact.

As she grumbled to her feet, the front door of the Malfoy home burst open.

"Where are you, Draco?" Narcissa called out. "Please be alive, my dear! Where are you?"

Harmony rushed out of the living room, surprised at the relief she felt in hearing the witch's voice. She met the group in the lobby, and for the very first time she was glad to see Snape alive and well.


	26. Chapter 26

Narcissa grasped her shoulders and shook her. "Where is he?" she asked desperately. "Where is my son?"

When Draco walked in from the kitchen, the worry crease between Narcissa's well-groomed eyebrows smoothed and she beamed. The witch released Harmony and embraced her son.

"If something had happened to you, I don't know what I would've done with myself," Narcissa said, stroking Draco's white blonde hair.

Snape and Harmony's eyes met briefly and they nodded to one another.

"Did you have much trouble with the small army waiting outside?" Harmony asked the adults.

Without letting go of Draco, Narcissa answered, "They put up a fight, but nothing beats a determined mother who wants nothing more than to return to her family."

"This small army," Snape added, "may have mostly consisted of Ministry officials, but they were unorganized. They didn't seem to have much of a battle plan, only fought like enraged bulls."

"Which means…?"

"They came to the competition most likely without the Minister's permission or acknowledgment."

"So the people are becoming more rebellious."

"More so since the Battle of Hogwarts," he said. "Many people lost someone in that fight. Many people feel compelled to have revenge against what was taken from them. You may be the center of many people's wrath, but there are some who may have found a change of heart."

Harmony's ears perked at this. "What do you mean?"

Snape's thin beige lips pursed, knowing this bit of information would interest her. "After you and Draco escaped by elevator, a mob prepared to take the next one up. But some people blockaded the entrance to the elevators, slowing the mob's ability to get to you." He gave a dignified little shrug and tilted his head slightly, "Not all of them looked like Death Eaters. Some I had never seen before; there were a couple children your own age, I noticed."

Harmony absorbed this news greedily and she smiled. People other than the Death Eaters were trying to protect her.

Seeing her smile, Snape intervened, "But we shouldn't become too hopeful. The numbers against you still outnumbered those with you, by far."

Soon, Narcissa—always conscious of her looks—noticed the state of her muddied dress and asked Harmony if she would like to join her in cleaning up. She gratefully agreed and asked Snape if there was anything he could do about her burns. They weren't too serious, but the blistered skin was painful and covered parts of her front and back torso. He said that with the Malfoy's permission he could make a salve using their ingredients. Narcissa agreed and guided Harmony upstairs to change.

When she tried to take off her corset, she gritted her teeth in pain. Part of the fabric had melted onto her and trying to take it off was like trying to pull off layers of her own skin. But with the help of Narcissa's magic, her clothes unstuck leaving furious red blotches on her stomach and up her back. Narcissa lend her one of her own dresses made of green velvet with a silver hemline. It covered her legs and arms, but it was tight fitting at the torso, giving her a feminine look her other clothes failed to give her.

Narcissa took her old clothes away. Harmony got the idea the witch was probably going to burn them. Which was fine. The clothes had served her well and it was a relief to have them off, like she had shed the Death Eater part of herself and was now left with something more elegant and royal.

Harmony stared at herself in the mirror and searched for the bookish, innocent girl she knew, thinking she could see it like a freckle on her cheek. It was like she was clinging desperately onto who she used to be. A girl who laughed freely and only worried about when homework was due. But as she stared at her hard brown eyes and unkempt hair, she couldn't deny the transformation. She had a new purpose in life and it was slithering up and down her body at that very moment. It was as though the girl on the other side of the mirror was begging to be released from this purpose, to be free and innocent again.

Harmony Hangleton touched her fingertips to the cold glass, almost wanting to smash her fist into the image and set the girl free from her bonds. Hermione Granger was on the other side of that mirror. Would she ever be set free?

She jumped when Narcissa appeared at the doorway of her reflection.

"Green and silver becomes you."

Harmony turned away from the mirror. "Why are you helping me?"

Narcissa flipped a strand of white blonde hair over her shoulder and sauntered over to her side. "For protection," she replied. "We mean to cut ourselves off completely from the rest of the Death Eaters, but if they happen to find us then perhaps they'll be more merciful if they knew we had treated you well."

Harmony nodded when she understood. She should have known. Just like Draco, she was only concerned about herself and her family. A part of her was envious; she missed having that family support. She had it with Ron and Harry, but now even that seemed lost.

In the first day Harmony spent at the Malfoy's, she learned much about their new lifestyle. Without servants, Narcissa was left to the cooking and cleaning all by herself. Lucius kept to his work, going overtime for the extra pay. Draco used to have a tutor for the days he stayed home from Hogwarts, but the tutor had to be laid off as well. Now Draco spent his days alone in the study, flipping through spell books and left to his own devices.

Taking advantage of the extra hands, Narcissa immediately put Harmony to work by helping with the house chores. In their formal gowns, they set about the Malfoy "shack" and cast spells for the dishes, the sweeping, the laundry, and the bathroom scrubbing. Narcissa wasn't particularly good at it, but Harmony taught her until she was capable of working on her own without difficulty. As they worked about the house, Narcissa chatted to Harmony as though she hadn't been able to speak in years.

"This old grungy house was nothing compared to the Manor. Oh, has Draco told you? Well, anyway, do you know how I first came to live there with my husband? I suppose I should start from the beginning: Lucius and I had a prearranged marriage to keep the pureblood line, of course, but I didn't mind. He was a charmer, that man. Can you believe it? No? Well, he can be harsh and firm when he needs to be, but he loves his family. We both had worked at the Ministry, but after we married in my early twenties we had more than enough money to keep ourselves, so I quit working and stayed home.

"The manor was passed down by Abraxas Malfoy. It's where we spent our honeymoon and all. A place of wonders, the Manor was. Almost like Hogwarts itself. And soon I was pregnant with Draco. Oh what a happy day that was. The very first person I told was Bella…" Narcissa's voice cracked, and when Harmony looked over at the witch she noticed tears brimming in her pale eyes. She continued after a couple breaths. "Bellatrix had been as excited as though the baby were her own. She so was beautiful back then. She had only just met the Dark Lord and wasn't yet degraded by the dark arts."

"You miss your sister, don't you?" Harmony asked delicately.

"More than anything," she replied as a tear rolled down her cheek. "She may have been corrupted, but she was my flesh and blood and my best friend. Family is very important. Without family, you lose yourself. The Dark Lord is the perfect example; he had no family and now look where he is. Family matters, don't forget that."

"I won't," Harmony said quietly. She knew full well that if Voldemort had some family—his mother, for example—then he would be very different from the man he was now. If he had family, he probably wouldn't be in a wizard insane asylum waiting for his death. Perhaps that was something else that made the two of them remarkably similar: neither of them had family to claim them or friends to comfort them. They just had themselves.

"What is family?" Harmony wondered aloud. Narcissa gave a small knowing smile.

"Family is someone you love and care for unconditionally, no matter what wrongs they've done, no matter how hard they push you away. For example, Draco is growing up; he's preparing for the day he can leave us and live on his own. He may push me and his father away, but we will always love him."

"Even if he murdered hundreds of people," Harmony said without thinking, and she shut her mouth quickly when she realized what she'd said.

Narcissa blinked and said simply, "Well, of course I'd still love him."

Harmony gaped at her answer and tried to comprehend. "But how?"

"People commit evils for a reason. It could be because they want revenge; it could be a call for help, or a need to be controlled. There is always a reason why people do what they do. And therefore there is always a way to help them."

"I've…never thought of it that way."

"I take it you're thinking of one person in particular," Narcissa remarked, raising a groomed eyebrow.

Harmony didn't bother lying. She nodded.

Narcissa watched her for a long moment and Harmony couldn't meet her eyes. Soon she heard a small laugh, high and delicate, coming from the witch.

"Yes, little Chosen One, there's always a reason. My sister wasn't strong or brave enough to change him—her ambitions were too great, but perhaps you're different."

"What do you mean?"

"Everybody can change," Narcissa said simply and left it at that.

Harmony followed Narcissa to the kitchen where they started on dinner. It was still a bit early to eat, but Narcissa wanted to have dinner ready for when Lucius came home. Narcissa said it distressed her husband to see his wife working so hard. Harmony suggested Draco come help them, but Narcissa burst out laughing at that suggestion. The witch said Draco would be even more hopeless at cooking than herself.

"Draco is with Severus, anyway, observing as he works on your burn salve."

The small dinner table was set by the time Lucius came home. He dropped his cloak on the sofa, hung up his cane, and collapsed in a lush armchair before he looked up and noticed the Muggle-born in his home. When he saw Harmony, his eyes flickered with surprise, but only for a brief moment. He soon composed himself and raised a straight eyebrow as though he had expected her to be there.

"Well, well," he said simply.

"I hope you don't mind, love," Narcissa said gently. "Severus asked if the two of them could stay here for a day or two."

"Severus may stay here as long as he wishes," Lucius said pointedly, giving Harmony a tight grin. With a beckon from Narcissa, he stood from his chair, his long white blonde hair falling over his shoulder, and sat at the head of the dinner table. Narcissa sat at the opposite head and Harmony took the seat directly on her left, leaving an empty chair between herself and Lucius. Draco and Severus occupied the two seats across the table. The head Malfoy kept his cold eyes on her, narrowing them on the dress she was wearing as he recognized it belonged to his wife. The food had hardly made it halfway around to everyone's plates when Lucius spoke.

"Miss Hermione Granger, heir to The Dark Lord Voldemort," he gave a forceful chuckle, as if he would have rather hurled his goblet at her head. "It is a bit humorous, don't you think Draco?"

"Hilarious," Draco replied despondently without looking up from his plate of food.

"Dear?" Lucius asked his wife.

Narcissa only shook her head at him sharply.

Lucius turned his attention to Snape, but the professor answered before the Malfoy could speak.

"She has carried the burden rather well, Lucius. I wouldn't be too harsh."

Lucius' face stretched in bewilderment at Snape's reply, and he gave a small, "Oh."

He left Harmony alone after that, but continued to shoot her glares over his forkfuls of roast beef. From the exchanged glances between Narcissa and her husband, she could guess the two were going to have a long, detailed conversation later tonight about their new charges.

After dinner, Harmony helped Narcissa carry the dishes to the kitchen. As they set the dirty plates in the sink, Narcissa whispered, "You'll have to excuse my husband. He may give you a hard time, but he means well for us. I'll explain to him tonight the reasons for letting you stay, he's sure to listen to me."

Harmony gazed at the woman in reverence. "I cannot thank you enough, Mrs. Malfoy." She was glad of the woman's kindness, no matter if she only meant it to protect her family. Being surrounded by all these demanding Slytherins was getting tiresome; Narcissa's motherly demeanor was a breath of fresh air.

When they returned to the men sitting stiffly in their chairs, Snape let her know her burn salve was ready. He led her silently down a hall into the potion room. A pewter cauldron stood in the center of the space, full of a pink bubbly substance. With experienced fingers, Snape scooped the contents out into a round silver canister the size of her palm and handed it to her.

"Apply a thin layer over the burns once a day and the scarring should disappear within a week."

"Thank you," she said, giving him a small smile, but he turned away to clean up the workspace.

Before she left he asked without looking over at her, "Will you need assistance in applying it?"

Harmony froze, thinking a moment. She knew she wouldn't be able to reach some places on her back without help, but the thought of Snape's rough, callused hands rubbing up and down her skin made her stomach clench. She quickly declined and left, feeling sick and a bit feverish. Merely in desperation, she asked Narcissa to help her and the woman did.

Later that evening, everyone was settling down for bed and Narcissa was showing her where she was to sleep. Like Draco said, the bedrooms were all at the top of the stairs, and Harmony noticed three doors. She saw Lucius disappear behind the door on the far end, and she assumed Snape was occupying one room, so where did Draco-?

"Here we are," Narcissa said as she wrapped a hand around the handle to the last door and swung it open.

Right away Harmony saw Draco by the bed, and he had just pulled off his shirt to change into pajamas, revealing his bare chest. Then he spotted the women at the door.

"Oi!" he shouted, using his shirt to cover himself, "Mum!"

Harmony stood frozen like an owl in the headlights, whereas Narcissa composedly placed a hand on her hip and said in a stern tone, "Draco, I said you were going to be sleeping on the couch. Severus has the only spare room and she is our guest."

Draco sputtered, quickly slipping back on his shirt, "Like bloody hell she's sleeping in my bed!"

"Draco!" Narcissa exclaimed, curling her dainty hands into fists at her sides.

"Having to be in the same room with her is torture enough. Don't you care about how I feel?"

"Oh please, Draco," Narcissa said, waving his words away. "Spare me the drama."

"It's okay," Harmony squeaked, but their conversation overpowered her.

"Show some respect to her once in a while. Don't you know who she is?"

"A bloody Mudblood is what she is."

Narcissa threw her hands up in the air. "Oh, my son, don't be so ignorant. If we treat her well, we might be rewarded for it. Don't you want that?"

"Of course…That doesn't mean she can take anyone's bed when she wishes."

Narcissa geared up to reply to his argument, but Harmony spun around and walked away from the bedrooms, going downstairs. Their banter followed her to the living room. A blanket and pillow were on the sofa she laid on earlier that morning. She blew out the candles and undressed before snuggling down in the plush pillows. She listened until the mother and son's conversation ended, then the house became quiet. It was so silent not even a clock ticked. Harmony could close her eyes and easily imagine herself in a coffin buried six feet underground.

She hated to admit she was having difficulty getting the image of Draco's bare chest out of her mind. The expanse of his skin was firm and pale like Voldemort's the night they'd spent at Shell cottage. That had been her first time seeing a man completely naked, and her encounter with Draco only refueled those hungry passions.

Harmony fell asleep with an ache in her chest, but hardly a moment later, she pushed back the blankets and stood up from the couch. She left the living room and went in the hallway. She caught movement out of the corner of her eye. A shadow passed from the kitchen to the room across the hall. She followed with her bare feet slapping against the wood floor. She peered into the room.  _Was this here before?_ She didn't remember seeing a door across the kitchen earlier. It must have gone overlooked.

The door was partly closed and she brought a hand up to push it aside. Like the parting of a theater curtain, first she saw an elegant four poster bed.  _Strange_ , Harmony thought,  _Narcissa didn't mention another spare room_. It didn't occur to her she was dreaming until she pushed the door completely open and discovered the source of the shadow.

Voldemort stood with his back to her, facing a large window. The moonlight poured in, turning his body from the hips up a majestic blue. With a step closer, Harmony realized he wasn't wearing a stitch of clothing. She swallowed, her face growing hot, and her heart thudded against her chest so loud she could hear it through the silence. As though magnetized to his presence, she couldn't help but walk closer to him. Her feet hardly made a whisper and he didn't turn to face her. She stopped a couple feet from his bare figure and her eyes drank in every inch of skin. The curves of the defined muscles in his shoulders were as pale as marble, and for a moment she wondered if he would feel just as hard. Like a statue frozen in time.

Impulsively, she reached a hand out and touched his back. The muscles stiffened beneath her fingers, quivering like a wild animal unacquainted with the warm feel of another living being. He took a deep breath, making her fingers spread as his skin went taut. She stepped closer and rested her head between his shoulder blades. His skin there was warmer than the rest because it was so close to his heart.

"You know," she said, breaking the silence, "some would consider it imprudent to be standing around with no clothes on."

He gave a short chuckle and she felt him turn his head to look back at her. "I could tell you the same thing."

"Hm?"

Harmony looked down at herself and she quickly brought space between their naked bodies with a gasp. Where had her underclothes gone? Hadn't she been wearing them a moment ago? She snapped her head back up to him, fighting the impulse to cover herself. But something stopped her; she could have easily rushed over to the bed and wrapped a sheet around herself, but her feet didn't move. Why should she try to conceal herself from him? He had seen her completely bare before and he explored every part of her with ferventness. He had taken—no… _she had given_  her innocence to him. He had endowed to her, of all people, his unique mark to let everyone know she belonged with him. A part of his soul, no matter how small, literally resided with her; not living side-by-side, but entangled, intertwined, and laced together as one. Harmony tried to think of what else could possibly bind them any closer.

Marriage, maybe?

She laughed aloud at the thought, amused by its ridiculousness. He would never be interested in marriage…would he?

Voldemort tilted his head back to look at her.

Harmony felt a sudden surge of confidence and the embarrassment from her nakedness disappeared.

"What is so amusing?" he asked in his deep velvety voice.

She shook her head, ridding herself of all thoughts of marriage. "So is this your preferred way to dream?" she asked, waving a hand over her body.

He laughed, fully and deeply, and he turned around to face her. He leaned against the window sill, smiling at her with narrowed eyes as though he knew something she didn't.

"You know full well it takes the two of us to dream these dreams together," he said.

She looked away.

"Ah," he said when he caught her guardedness, "you know what I mean, don't you?" When she met his gaze pointedly, he clicked his tongue. "Not so innocent as I once thought."

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" she asked with feigned distaste.

"Oh, yes," he replied, looking at her through his dark lashes. "Immensely. You see, I've never been completely certain of your thoughts and opinions of me. But now," his penetrative blue eyes roamed up and down the length of her body, "I see quite  _clearly_."

She wanted to hex him for his forward remark, but she halted because she knew he was right. Before now, she missed him because she thought she needed him. But now she realized that she  _wanted_  him. She thought of Narcissa's words from earlier, about loving unconditionally despite all of the wrongs that person loved has committed. She looked at Voldemort in front of her, thinking about all his faults, and she wondered:  _can he be loved_?

_"Everybody can change."_

Harmony understood and the realization brought tears to her eyes. Voldemort could change. He could love like his mother loved his father, but he couldn't do it alone. He had been too deprived of love as a child; he didn't understand what it meant. He had to be shown. Her heart ached horribly knowing it was too late now that he was in his Menkar cell, waiting to be executed. But when she really opened her eyes, she still saw him standing there before her, bare and painfully perfect.

Voldemort's eyebrows knit together when he saw her tears, and he brought a hand up to brush them away with his fingertips. Then he trailed down and brushed his thumb across her bottom lip. The familiar hunger filled his eyes. Seeing this, she pressed her chest against his and kissed him. She wrapped her arms around his neck to bring him as close as possible. Surprising her, he quickly responded by tangling a hand in her mass of curls and pressing his mouth harder on hers. Their breath came fast, impatient for more. His other arm wound around her waist and his mouth left hers to trail down her neck onto her chest where the Serpentine charm tingled on her skin. With her body completely against him, she felt his body tense. They pulled enough away to meet each other's eyes, brown to blue.

No words needed to be said; everything transpired in their eyes. Somehow she knew what he wanted, and that she wanted exactly the same thing.


	27. Chapter 27

She lay back on the bed and Voldemort draped himself on top of her. He wedged himself between her legs and kissed her hard, weaving their fingers together. It became obvious he was much more hesitant to move things along. He kissed her skin slowly and deliberately as though they had all the time in the world. Harmony recalled that he had been very different the first time they were together at Shell cottage. He was hurried and frantic to become one with her. Maybe now he wanted to memorize every part of her as though afraid he would lose traces of her existence. Harmony tried to relax and let him savor her, but she couldn't suppress her greediness. She knew they didn't have all the time in the world. They only had hours or less, and after that they may never see each other again. What if the next time she fell asleep, waiting for his touch, he never came because he was dead? Harmony swallowed back a cry of sorrow.

Voldemort was running his lips over her collarbone when Harmony wrapped her legs around his hips. His mouth paused over her neck when she did this, and she knew she had succeeded in sending the message that she wanted to go further. With satisfaction, he brought a hand back to grasp her thigh, but he continued to only kiss her. Harmony suppressed a sigh of impatience.

"What's the rush?" he asked, his lips brushing like butterflies over her throat.

"You're going to be dead within days or sooner. We're never going to see each other again."

At the word "dead" Voldemort froze and then he lifted his lips from her throat to hitch up on his elbows, looking down at her.

"Right," he mumbled. "I forgot."

"You forgot?" Harmony exclaimed in disbelief. "How can you forget that you're going to be executed?"

He smiled down at her with hooded eyes. "Perhaps I only wanted to think about being with my heir. Can you blame me?"

She bit her lip and shrugged.

"No," he whispered, bringing a hand up to brush her bangs away from her eyes. He trailed his thumb down her jaw line and over her lips which were swollen from kissing. His mouth curved upward in a smile as he stared down at her. His blue eyes shone bright even though the only source of light came from the moon outside the window. Long, black lashes adorned his eyes and Harmony brushed away a stray lash on his cheek. He brought his lips to her hand and kissed her palm. He tilted his head thoughtfully. "You're sad."

Harmony sighed deeply and her chest pressed against his. "What am I going to do after you die? I can't keep running forever. The Ministry is bound to catch me eventually. I'm afraid I'll be alone to handle everything that's about to come."

Voldemort relaxed against her and spoke into her ear. "You don't have to be afraid."

Harmony closed her eyes, focusing on the feel of his heart beating against her chest. She wished she could believe him. It would be so easy to pretend.

"If there was some way for me to see you again before you die, I'd do it," Harmony murmured.

"I'm glad to hear it," he said with a satisfied lilt in his voice.

"But you wouldn't recognize me."

He grunted.

"I wonder if it'll hurt," she whispered as though reluctant to speak the words allowed.

"Hm?"

"When you die, will I feel anything?"

He didn't reply, only stared down at her with an unreadable expression. His fingers on one hand methodically twirled around a lock of her hair. Unwind, twirl, unwind, and again. Then he uttered the words Harmony least wanted to hear.

"You need to wake up."

Her brown eyes went wide at his sudden change of mind.

"No," she said, gritting her teeth in order to keep the pain from her voice.

He nodded slowly and said more quietly, "You need to wake."

"No." She tightly shut her eyes and the corners stung as tears threatened to fall. "I'll never see you again."

He closed his blue eyes like stars snuffing out their light. He brought his lips to hers, and kissed her for a long time before he whispered, "Wake up, my dear."

Every existence of the dream dripped away like a painting destroyed in rain. The weight of his body and the beating of his heart faded away. The moonlight brightened into the penetrating sunlight, searing her eyes behind her lids. Her body felt heavier as the clothes and blankets appeared. Her eyes popped open and she sat up. She tore at the blankets, hating the way they tangled around her body like a snake. Jumping to her feet, she gave a cry of exasperation and kicked the coffee table in front her. Tears of pain filled her eyes as she hopped up and down, holding her foot.

Then she saw Narcissa standing in the entryway to the living room. The witch was holding a tray of steaming food and blinked at Harmony with a blank expression.

"Bad dream?" Narcissa finally asked.

Harmony blew her bangs out of her face and said briskly, "It was quite pleasant actually." She turned around to throw her pillow and blanket back on the couch.

"Well, I wouldn't blame you," Narcissa said, walking in to set the food on the table Harmony had banged her toe on. "Any moment of sleep must be a sweet release compared to what you've been through."

Harmony sat on the couch and thanked Narcissa for the meal. The swirl of Narcissa's dress wafted the scent of the food towards her. When she sniffed heavily, she expected her mouth to water, but instead her stomach rolled and she felt acidic bile rise in her chest. Her hands shots over her mouth and nose, and she turned away from Narcissa.

"Um, I actually don't think I'm all that hungry."

"No?" Narcissa asked, placing her hands on her hips and raising an eyebrow down at the young witch. "Well, when you  _do_  get hungry you'll have this here to eat." She shook her finger at her. "I'm not going to cook a whole new meal for one person."

"Yes, ma'am," Harmony replied meekly behind her hand. She sat on the couch and waited for the nausea to pass.

Before she dressed, Narcissa assisted in applying her burn salve. Already her burns were starting to heal, but they still stung when anything rubbed against them. She followed Narcissa into the kitchen. Snape and Lucius were seated at the heads of the dining table. Harmony took the empty seat beside Draco. She remained quiet so as to go unnoticed. Her stomach still quivered as though any moment she'd be horribly sick. Narcissa went straight to the stove and stirred some boiling substance in a pot. Everyone listened to Draco while he rambled on.

"We should buy tickets as soon as possible. They're going to be gone faster than you can say 'You-Know-Who?'" he chuckled in his boyish, immature way.

"Tickets?" Harmony asked.

Draco seemed to ignore her, but his voice rose as though hoping she'd hear more clearly. "Dad, you have lots of enormously rich contacts, I'm sure you could somehow get us good seats. I wore my best clothes today, just in case." He ran a hand over his black suit and green tie. "I want to look good for the cameras; there will  _no doubt_  be cameras. You think they'll get pictures of the crowd?" he asked seemingly no one in particular. "I know, we'll get a seat near the Minister, then we'll be more likely to end up in a picture-"

"What tickets?" Harmony asked more fervently, leaning forward in her seat.

Draco didn't look at her, but a corner of his lips twitched. Without a word he picked something up off his lap, and Harmony realized he had been waiting for that precise moment he could show just her. He had the  _Daily Prophet_ in his hands and he held up the front page for Harmony to see in all its unspeakable glory.

Everything in her mind stopped, and she felt as though her heart had been crushed underfoot by a troll, picked up by a sharp-fingered pixie and tossed into the waiting jaws of a Hungarian Horntail.

 _"You-Know-Who to be EXECUTED at Midnight!"_ read the front page. Beneath was a picture of Menkar asylum, an island in the center of a cold, empty ocean.

As Harmony struggled to find her breath, Draco spoke, no doubt reveling in her reaction, "Rumor has it the  _Daily Prophet_ made history with this print. They've never sold this many copies until today."

"Tickets?" Harmony asked when she found her voice, which came out lower and more threatening than usual. "They're selling  _tickets_ to his execution like…like some kind of  _show?_ "

"And serving popcorn and pumpkin juice for the audience, just like the good old days," Draco replied, smirking at his father who only closed his eyes and shook his head.

"It's…it is positively monstrous," Harmony hissed, digging her nails into her palms.

"A monstrous execution fit for a monster. Don't you think so?" Draco asked, looking over at her with a snide smile on his pale lips.

Before she could reply, Harmony had to hold her hand over her mouth. There it was again: that detestable sensation of acidic bile running up from her stomach, into her chest, and then her throat. She gagged, turned towards Draco, and threw up in his lap.

Draco shouted in outrage and jumped up from his seat. Harmony gripped onto the table's edge with white knuckles. Draco ran out of the room to change his clothes, angrily muttering under his breath. While Lucius only desired to be as far away from the sick young witch as possible, Narcissa quickly came to her side, holding her hair out of her face. Harmony doubled over, her knees hitting the ground. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Snape flee the room. Narcissa wrapped one of Harmony's arms around her neck and picked her up off the ground. As the witch carried the sick girl to a bedroom, Harmony relieved her stomach three more times. Her face was burning from the humiliation.

Snape appeared again when Harmony was writhing on the bed in the spare room. He encouraged her to drink from a bottle he brought, but the potion tasted as bad as her sick and she choked it back.

"She doesn't have a fever," Narcissa said as she tried to console the sobbing girl.

"Something she ate, perhaps," Snape suggested.

"Draco said they ate sandwiches last night, but he's fine."

"Then maybe it is grief," Snape said, twirling the empty potion bottle between his long fingers thoughtfully.

Narcissa chirped a laugh, "For the death of the Dark Lord? Not even Bella would have become this physically ill in grief. No, this must be something else." She thought a moment then looked hard at Snape. "Please leave us for a moment, Severus."

He bowed out, closing the door behind him.

Harmony was seated on the bed with her knees huddled up to her chin.

"Now, girl," Narcissa began in a demanding tone. She sat calmly and gracefully at the edge of the bed. She leaned forward, her white blonde hair falling over her shoulder and Harmony met her eyes. Narcissa continued, saying each word precisely, "I want you to be absolutely honest with me." She paused to raise a pencil thin eyebrow at the young witch. "Can you do that?"

A single tear quietly fell, and she slowly nodded.

Meanwhile, the three men sat in the living room. Lucius had grown tired of his son's talk about seeing the execution in all its glory, so he served them wine to give Draco something to occupy his mouth. Snape paced while he sipped his, but after polite pressings from Lucius, he sat down in a green armchair between the Malfoy's. Snape made small talk about how Lucius' new work was going, but his mind was on the witch upstairs. He'd done what he could with the potion he gave her, now he could only wait.

Why did he care at all? Dumbledore had asked him all those years ago to protect Harry Potter and he agreed…because he was Lily's son. But he agreed to protect Granger because, in a way, he considered himself to be making up for when he didn't protect Lily. He still had his moments where he could kill savagely in vengeance for his murdered beloved, and protecting this Muggle-born witch was his salvation from his harrowing guilt.

Snape nodded absent-mindedly as Lucius droned on. But they were both interrupted when a door slammed upstairs, making the shards in the chandelier chink together. The two Malfoy's and the potions professor listened as heavy footsteps stomped down the stairs. Then Narcissa appeared, looking furious. She held her arms stiffly at her sides, hands in fists, and her cold eyes now boiled. She strode into the living room and went straight up to Snape.

"You should be ashamed of yourself!" she screeched.

Snape quirked an eyebrow at her tone.

"That poor girl," Narcissa went on, "relied on you to protect her and you had to take advantage of her vulnerability! I would have  _never_  expected this from you Severus Snape. I know you have a soft spot for Muggle-borns, but this is  _outrageous!"_

"What are you raving about, Narcissa?" Snape asked, taking a drink of his wine. "Make yourself clear-"

"She's pregnant."

Snape lurched forward, spewing out his wine. He stared up at Narcissa like he was waiting for the punchline of a joke. But it never came.

"What do you have to say for yourself?" she snapped, glaring down at him.

"What are you implying?'"

"You know very well," she replied. "She has been with you all this time, has she not?"

"A while now, yes, but-"

"Knowing this, I asked her if you two shared a bed, and she confirmed it."

"That is true, but-"

The Malfoy men's eyes grew large in shock.

"How could you?" Narcissa said angrily. "She is just a child! No older than Draco!"

Snape shot up from his seat so he loomed over the witch and he thundered, "I am not the father, Narcissa!"

"How are you so sure?"

He made sharp motions with his hands, imploring her to listen. "I would never dream—from the deepest recesses in my conscious—of having an intimate relation with that young witch."

Narcissa frowned at his reply. "But she said you shared-"

"To save money," he explained carefully, "we rented a single room at the inns to save galleons and that required us to share. There's nothing more to it."

The awkward silence hung heavily in the air as everyone avoided one another's gaze.

"Oh," Narcissa whispered almost inaudibly. Her cheeks flushed and she shrugged one shoulder. "Then who is the father?"

"I am not completely sure," Snape admitted, and added darkly, "But I may have an idea."

They exchanged curious glances.

Narcissa said slowly, "You couldn't possibly mean it's-"

"This is ridiculous," Lucius added. "Of course it couldn't be-"

Draco finished their thoughts by swearing loudly in a way that made Narcissa go, "Draco!"

She sighed, rubbing her temples. Then she held up her hands for the men to calm down. "We mustn't assume," she said. "I will go and ask her myself, yes?" Without a reply she turned on her heel and flew from the room.

"I don't believe this," Lucius hissed under his breath, collapsing on the couch. He swiveled his white blonde head up to Snape. "Do you really think it's possible?"

"Unfortunately, yes," Snape said. "The Dark Lord had been very keen on receiving a new follower, and he had been desperate on giving this person everything. What's unbelievable is he gave everything to  _her_."

"The Death Eaters will feel a renewed sense of power once they find this out," Lucius said. "They will do anything now to possess her and keep her safe."

They ceased all conversation when they heard quick footsteps. Narcissa appeared and her face was creased with worry.

"She's gone!"

"What do you mean, Narcissa?" Snape asked, going up to the witch. "Where is she?"

"I checked the bedroom, she wasn't there. I checked the bathroom, she wasn't there either. Then I saw the back door was wide open. I rushed to look out and see if I could spot her, but she was already gone!"

Snape took a moment to sink this news in, and then he strode out of the living room. They all followed him as he rushed upstairs and entered the spare room. He opened the drawer of the writing desk, but when he found it was empty, he slammed it shut and rested his hands on top.

His back was to them when he said as calmly as possible, "The tournament prize money is gone." He barked a laughed and shook his head. "She took all the money we were going to use for Polyjuice potion ingredients."

"She's going to run," Lucius said.

"No," Snape said, turning around to face them. His voice was surprisingly light with amusement. "No, she's tired of running. I think she's going to do the complete opposite. She's going to take the bull by the horns and head straight into trouble."

He stared at the Malfoy's, his obsidian eyes hard and unwavering.

"She's going to save him."


	28. Chapter 28

Harmony sprinted through the grass, wetting the hem of her dress with the early morning dew. The heavy bag of galleons jingled with each step she took farther away from the Malfoy home. Her heart was beating against her chest so hard it threatened to explode from her rib cage. Her mind was empty of all rational thought, her body only moved because her heart told her to.

Nearly ten minutes ago, Narcissa had been asking her strange questions, some concerning Snape. Had they shared a bed?  _Well, of course, but-_ Then Narcissa became angry. Harmony didn't understand, but then Narcissa told her she was pregnant. She only stared at the witch.  _What,_ she'd asked, even though she had heard perfectly. Narcissa was familiar with the symptoms of being sick with a baby, and she had no doubt Harmony was going through the same thing. Piece by piece, she began to understand. The shock hit her hard in the chest and the air left her lungs in a rush. Narcissa left the room in a furious frenzy before Harmony was initially over her shock, but as she sat in the room alone—holding her middle and gasping as though she had been punched in the stomach—her mind began to change. She realized that there really was no reason to be shocked at this news. Of course she was going to have a baby, it only made perfect sense. She was Voldemort's heir, follower, and companion. She was most likely the only woman alive to have these kinds of feelings reciprocated by the Dark Lord. Her hands had drifted over her stomach, imagining the new life growing into another existence, a human being made of her and made of him. Then she remembered with gut-wrenching horror that her baby's father was going to be killed tonight. Her child was going to be born and raised fatherless. Everyone needs a mother and a father. Like Narcissa said earlier, family is everything to a person. Without them, a person is incomplete and a piece of who they are and where they come from is missing. She felt a pain in her chest at the thought of Voldemort dying without knowing what miracle he was leaving behind.

It was  _that_  thought that made her jump out of bed and start packing. Her mind and all thoughts of logic left and her heart took control. Snape had their bags in the spare room and she snatched hers up, fitting her burn balm into one of the side pockets.

An idea had popped into her mind: she and Snape were going to use the tournament money to buy Polyjuice potion ingredients. In order to sneak into Menkar, she would most definitely need to change her appearance. She searched through all the drawers, hoping Snape didn't keep the money on his person. She found the bag of galleons in the desk drawer and slipped it in her sac. Tip-toeing down the stairs, she hoped no one would come out of the living room and see her. If Snape knew what she was doing, he would surely try to stop her and convince her that the mission was suicide. Of course he was right, but her mind didn't think about that. What she was doing was crazy, but for the sake of her baby she was suddenly willing to risk everything.

Escaping the Malfoy home through the front door wasn't an option because she would have to walk right past the living room, where Snape and the Malfoy's were. There was a back door by the kitchen and that was her best choice. On her way out, she spotted the  _Daily Prophet_ on the table, forgotten by Draco after she had gotten sick on his suit. Directions on how to go to Menkar had to be in there. She snatched up the newspaper and grabbed one of Narcissa's scarves on a cloak stand, winding the green fabric around the bottom half of her face. Without any thought or hesitation, she left the Malfoy home and started on her incredible undertaking.

Harmony didn't completely comprehend that she was planning on escaping Voldemort from Menkar wizard asylum until she was sprinting out in the morning air. The breeze lifted the fog from her mind and the very idea made shivers rack down her arms and legs. But the desire to have her child's father in safety's arms still resided. Was this desire selfish? Absolutely. She wasn't even sure if sneaking into Menkar would be possible; the asylum had to be covered with officials and with her being the world's most wanted criminal, sneaking in was going to be no easy feat. She needed to take this in steps. Number one: she needed to change her appearance. To do that she needed to buy a brewed Polyjuice potion at Knockturn Alley. But who would she turn into after she bought the potion? The person had to have access into Menkar, or a ticket to see the execution. Again, she was just going to have to take this one step at a time.

Harmony sprinted up and over a hilly field next to the Malfoy home until she was sure she couldn't be seen, then she Apparated. The only bit of Knockturn Alley she had ever seen was what she saw while on the mission with Voldemort to retrieve the Vanishing cabinet not long after she'd first met him.

She Apparated to a dank alleyway and even the protection of the scarf over her nose wasn't enough to block out the rank smell of the rubbish lining the walls. Something in the air smelled like a mixture of old fruit and rotting flesh; she wasn't exactly sure which because she refrained from looking too closely at her surroundings. A beggar woman draped in soiled rages sat hunched at the mouth of the alley, and at the sight of Harmony's wealthy clothes she thrust her dirty hands out to her.

"Please mad'm," the beggar croaked.

Harmony bit the inside of her cheek in indecision. She wasn't sure how expensive the brewed Polyjuice potion was going to be, so she needed to be wise with her money. But she thought about the family the beggar woman might have. Maybe she had children at home and she knew if she were the beggar, she would hope the same for her child.

Harmony fished a few galleons out of the purse and dropped the glittering gold in the beggar's outstretched hand. Her eyes grew large from beneath the hood of her filthy cloak, and when she smiled Harmony saw a full view of her black teeth.

"Thank you, my Lady, thanks very much," the beggar woman said, bowing her head deeply.

"Would it be possible if you could help me?" Harmony asked, bending over slightly so they looked eye-to-eye.

"Depends," she replied. "How about you ask me first? Then we'll see if I can help."

"Potions," Harmony said. "Where can I buy them?"

"Well, you see here," the beggar began, looking left and right before continuing, "If you're looking for your usual potions, there's always Hornby's Place. But if you're looking to get real  _business_  done, Sanguinary Solutions might have something in store for you."

Harmony shrugged one of her shoulders innocently. "Well, I suppose what I need isn't necessarily an everyday sort of thing." She smiled at the thought, and then asked the beggar, "Where can I find Sanguinary Solutions?"

Harmony cringed when the shopkeeper told her the price for the brewed Polyjuice potion. The price was at least a third of her prize money, but it gave her five gulps, which was five hours under its effects. It would have to work. She gave in and passed the money over with a deep sigh. Thankfully the shopkeeper didn't question her on the purpose for the potion nor looked suspicious at her face scarf. They must have been used to coming across shady people on a daily basis.

She slipped the Polyjuice potion in her sac and brought out the  _Daily Prophet_. As expected, there were several locations listed of harbors for people to take a boat to Menkar for the execution. The closest would take a whole day's walk, but Harmony knew of an inn she stayed at nearby. She could Apparate near the inn and walk to the harbor in minutes.

The inn resided next to the open sea and dark clouds blemished the horizon. Tonight was going to be a violent storm. Hopefully by the time it rolled around, both Harmony and Voldemort were already miles away from there. She was a bit sick of the overcast weather. Maybe they could Apparate to somewhere nice when this was all finished and done. Italy, perhaps, they could take a tour of the country.

Harmony let her mind wander as she strolled quickly down the side of the road to the harbor. Within a couple miles she saw large signs of life. People were passing her in massive groups in carriages or cars. Most Apparated and people would suddenly appear in front of her. This always made her nervous; what if people looked at her and recognized her hair or eyes? But no one took a second glance at her. Narcissa's scarf covered enough until she could change her appearance.

There were a couple buildings beside the harbor and in the windows of the ticket building read "ALL TICKETS SOLD OUT!" She had no choice but to use the Polyjuice potion. But on who?

She slipped into an alley between two buildings in order to look around for her victim without being scrutinized. Everyone walked about excitedly, singing with praise and laughter. She tried spotting any Death Eaters that were undercover: Mag, maybe Marek. But she saw no one that she recognized except for the few Ministry workers and Hogwarts students. While she looked for a victim, she expected to spot Harry and Ron somewhere in the massive crowd. If she did, she wasn't sure what she'd do. They had wanted to hear from her. She had promised to message them by Patronus, but she kept forgetting to. But as she thought about it, she knew she wouldn't have the courage to face Harry, not with what she was about to do. Would Harry ever forgive her?

Harmony shook away all thoughts of guilt as she continued with her search. Many people walked in groups; it would be smart if she chose someone away from the crowd, a lonely straggler. It was then she spotted her perfect target: a woman in Menkar worker clothes, which were long pale blue cloaks with emblems on the arms. Harmony immediately recognized the woman. It was hard to forget the time she tackled her to the ground at the Underground tournament after she had insulted and bemused Harmony with talk of Voldemort's execution. Her anger for the snide woman returned and she knew she would enjoy using her as a target. The woman was clearly a part of a group who also wore the pale blue Menkar cloaks, but she walked slightly behind, allowing Harmony easy access. As though fate was on her side, the group was going to pass right by her hiding spot in the alley.

Harmony slinked against one wall as tight as she could, as though to blend into the brick and become invisible. She held herself stiff as a bow string pulled taut, and when the group passed her, she acted.

" _Confundo_ ," Harmony whispered.

The Menkar woman, who had been in mid-annoying-laugh, froze and her soprano voice cut short. Her group walked on, not noticing anything wrong. The woman stood there slack-jawed with a blank expression in her cold grey eyes.

"Come this way," Harmony said delicately, curling a finger towards her.

The woman blinked and turned to Harmony. Without a glimpse of recognition in her eyes, she stepped like a zombie into the shadows of the alley. Harmony quickly cast a  _Stupefy_  and the woman collapsed to the ground unconscious. Harmony dropped to her side after taking a look around to see if anyone noticed. She was lucky; everyone was too caught up in their anticipation to realize what she had done. Quickly, Harmony removed the woman's Menkar cloak. When she put it on, the sleeves fell over her hands and the hem covered her feet. She slipped out the Polyjuice potion flask and plucked several hairs from the woman's head. When she sprinkled them in, the liquid turned a vile lavender-gray. She scrunched her nose in disgust as she took one gulp of the potion. Corking the rest, she slipped it into her sac which she hid beneath the Menkar cloak.

First her skin tingled all over, and then in bubbled as boils began to grow over every inch of her body. Her bones creaked as she grew in length and her head felt lighter as her hair changed from long to short-cropped. As the potion settled, she looked down at her hands which were now long and bony. She was higher up from the ground now and she took a couple steps to make sure she had a handle on her new body. This was going to be who she was for the next five hours, she needed to get used to it.

Harmony sat on her haunches and searched through the woman's clothes for her wand. When she found it, she pocketed her own and tapped the woman between the eyes, casting a Disillusion spell. Starting from the point where her wand met her skin, it was like a liquid poured out and covered the woman from head to foot, making her blend into her surroundings like a chameleon. At a glance, no one would notice her lying in the alley.

Her ears perked when she heard people calling out, "Ursula!" She jumped to her feet and poked her head out of the alley. The group in Menkar robes had finally noticed their companion's disappearance and they scanned their eyes through the crowd to find the missing woman. When Harmony stepped out of from her hiding spot—throwing on a smug smile for theatrics—their faces lit up and they waved her over.

"Ursula!" shouted a man with similar grey eyes. "Where have you been? The next boat leaves in five minutes."

She nodded and sauntered over as though she could take as long as she wished. The large boat was nearly overflowing with witches and wizards. There was another boat waiting at bay to come to harbor when the current set off, but Harmony didn't want to wait any longer than she had to. So when she reached her group of fellow workers, she bowled past them and took the lead. As expected, there were large security wizards at each side of the entrance on the boat. They narrowed their eyes at her, as they must have with everyone, and Harmony swallowed nervously. She was afraid to speak, knowing her voice was still her own and not the woman's, but their intense scrutiny eased when they saw her Menkar robes.

"Long time no see, Ursula," one of the men spoke, winking playfully down at her and holding out a beefy hand. "You know the drill."

Harmony blinked at his hand momentarily, then she took out the wand she'd snatched from the woman and handed it to the security wizard. He muttered under his breath and violet sparks shot from the tip. Harmony swallowed nervously. This had to be some identity check; the Ministry of Magic had similar protocol.

The guard's eyes flicked up to her before he handed back the wand, and her lips twitched into a painful smile.

With an inward sigh of relief, he returned the smile and waved her onto the boat. "Go ahead, Ursula. Have fun, will you?"

On the inside Harmony cursed him for thinking this expedition could be remotely  _fun_ , but she forced her smile to widen and nodded.

There was no more seating available, so Harmony strolled between the large groups of people, eavesdropping on their conversations. When she passed a couple huddled against the breeze, she heard them muttering excitedly.

"Rumor has it they're going to let Harry Potter do the execution."

Harmony's heart jolted to her throat at the sound of her friend's name.

The other tittered, "That sure won't make the Dementors happy."

"No, but that boy deserves his vengeance, especially after all he's been put through."

"He's not the only one," the other complained. "The Dark Lord is responsible for the deaths of many people with friends and families."

"Yes, of course, but Potter is our Chosen One. He's always been destined to bring You-Know-Who down. He deserves to end it all and bring the Wizarding world to peace."

 _I'm a chosen one, too_ , Harmony thought solemnly,  _only for the exact opposite reason as Harry's_.

The breeze bit coldly at her face and she was glad for the protection of the Menkar worker robes. She stood at the bow, leaning against the rail with her eyes narrowed on the blue and gray horizon where the sky met the sea. By word of mouth, she heard the boat ride to the wizard asylum took nearly an hour; an hour of her Polyjuice potion gone. She would need to take another gulp the second she stepped onto shore.

Her Menkar worker mates eventually caught on to her aloof behavior and began to question her playfully.

"You haven't said a word since we stepped on board, Ursula," the man with grey eyes pointed out. He elbowed her lightly in the ribs, and gave her a half smile. "Is there something you're not telling us?"

Harmony wondered how the woman would react. She placed a hand on her jutted out hip and smiled mischievously. She raised an eyebrow as if to say, "I don't know, you tell me."

"I know what's going on," a small witch said, waving a finger in her face. "You're saving your voice so you can cheer when the time comes for the execution."

Apparently this was a hilarious comment and the group—everyone but her—burst out laughing. Suppressing a grimace, Harmony pursed her lips, making it appear as though she were holding back a laugh. The man slapped her on the shoulder, holding his side in stitches.

"That's my girl," he said. "You were always the smarter one, always one step ahead of us."

The rest of the group decided to do the same and they stared off into the sea silently. Harmony's first view of Menkar was its towering architecture appearing out of the dense fog. The large building resided on a bluff overlooking the ocean with water crashing on the rocks below. Only a small section of the island had a safe place to harbor where the waters were less violent. A path led up to the asylum, which serpentine through the forest that concealed the land outside the stone walls. Chills racked up and down her body at the sight of the desolate place. Everything looked cold, wet, grey, and void of life. Perhaps it was due to the presence of the Dementors. She could feel her spirits diminish at the thought of the horrible creatures, but her heart quickened knowing Voldemort resided somewhere behind those cold stone walls.

Their boat waited in the bay as the boat in the harbor finished unloading its passengers. When it was their turn, they approached shore and were welcomed by a small throng of Menkar and Ministry guards. They all held their wands firmly at their sides and stared intently at every single person who stepped off board. Harmony felt a small tingling sensation all over her body and she knew the Polyjuice potion was starting to wear off. As she walked behind her group up the steep path, she slipped the vial out of her pocket and took another gulp. The tingling ceased and with a heavy sigh, she continued her trek.

Harmony looked up at Menkar asylum on the bluff. She was really doing it; she was really going to try to escape Voldemort, for the second time. But this time—unlike the Battle of Hogwarts—her chance of survival was even less likely.


	29. Chapter 29

Harmony kept her head down and mouth shut as she blended in to the growing crowd of Menkar workers and audience members. If she didn't know any better, she would have thought everyone was attending a national quidditch match. People cheered, sang, drank, danced. Children ran in between their legs and cloaks. Barters sold merchandise and goods along the side of the road on the way to the asylum. Only the sight of the armed Ministry and Menkar workers scrutinizing everyone like vultures reminded Harmony of the seriousness of the situation.

Menkar wizard asylum was a cold grey building with spires on the roof sticking up to the sky like jagged teeth. Small windows lined the walls in an orderly fashion, one for each prison-like room. Harmony looked up at the many windows imagining Voldemort was behind one of them gazing down at her.

They were checked by guards again before passing the tall iron gates and entering into the courtyard. Audience members were guided to the center of the courtyard where seats, tables, and a stage was set up. It was still early afternoon and already the seating area was half full. Harmony scanned her gaze over the scene; if she was successful, then these seats, these tables, that stage will all have been set up for nothing. All these people will have come for nothing, only be present for the announcement that Voldemort had once again eluded them. Harmony tried desperately to bury the fact that what she was about to commit was horribly wrong. Voldemort's memory was gone. He was not the man he once was. Everyone deserves a chance…And her child. Her child will need their father.

There was no time to let the news of her pregnancy thoroughly sink in. If there was time, she would have wondered something like  _Would I make a good mother?_  or  _Will it be a boy or a girl?_  But deep within she knew she didn't want to think about those things at the moment, not when she was so uncertain of her future. What if she didn't survive this undertaking? Then she didn't want to think about the life that would die inside her as well.

She was lucky to have her Menkar work mates. Without them she would have walked around Menkar like an idiot. All workers took a back entrance where they gathered to hold a meeting and be assigned their daily job. They were given directions to check on their usual patients—which she did with a partner—and when that was through, Harmony was given kitchen duty. It was simple; speaking wasn't much of a necessity so she was safe from much inspection. In the kitchen, she was forced to cook simple meals, which she served to the massive crowds waiting in the courtyard. The cook, a burly middle-aged woman, tossed her an apron and immediately set her to work. She was pouring pumpkin juice when she felt it again: that tingling sensation all over her body, making her hairs stand on end. Discreetly, she slipped into a broom closet and took another gulp of her potion. Three gulps gone, only two left. She needed to figure out her plan and quick.

Soon enough, she did learn one thing. Listening to talk among the Menkar workers in the kitchen, they spoke something about a Level Six. Like "Level Six is going to get it tonight," or "Good riddance to Level Six." It didn't take much to realize that they were talking about Voldemort. He had a whole floor of the asylum to himself for security reasons. His presence must have unsettled the other patients. The mention of Voldemort made Harmony's heart beat in her throat and she swallowed it back.

Harmony finally found the chance to go to Voldemort just before she drank her last gulp of Polyjuice potion. She had been holding the vial to her lips, holding it there as though it were the poison to bring her death. This was it. If she didn't figure out a plan and act in the next hour, she would be discovered and join Voldemort at the execution stage in front of the world. Then from behind the broom closet door, she heard two kitchen workers speaking frantically.

"But do I  _have_  to," whined a young woman not much older than she.

An older woman answered severely, "You're not the only one who is weary to be around Level Six, Steph.  _Somebody_  has to deliver his food."

"But why  _me_?"

"Perhaps you should have thought about that before you came late to work! Everyone has voted and it's your turn to deliver Level Six's meals."

The young woman groaned and Harmony heard a bang as though she had kicked aside a rubbish bin while she walked away. With the spark of an idea igniting within her, she downed the last of her Polyjuice potion and left the broom closet. The older woman's back was to Harmony as she walked over to her.

When the older woman saw Harmony, she addressed her by the ID number on her Menkar robes.

"6485, haven't you something to do?"

Harmony was thankful for her luck; the older worker didn't know Ursula personally, so Harmony felt more free to speak in her own voice.

"I was just relieved from cooking duty," she lied. "If it's too much trouble for Steph, I can take up her delivery to Level Six."

The older woman raised an eyebrow. "You'd do that?"

"He's harmless, isn't he?" Harmony asked with feigned unease.

"Well, of course," she replied. "Yes, he's perfectly harmless, doesn't even speak a word. I take it you haven't delivered his meals before." When Harmony shook her head the woman waved her over and led her back to the kitchen. A plate with a steaming meat pie and goblet of water was waiting for them on the counter.

"I'll tell Steph when she comes back. She'll be absolutely thrilled." She picked up the tray and set it into Harmony's hands. "If I had my way he'd starve until his timely end," the witch mumbled under her breath. "But these damned humanitarians always get their way in the end, you get me?'

Harmony shrugged one shoulder, not trusting herself to speak. Innocently, she asked, "Will I have any trouble with more guards?"

"Nah," the witch replied. "There are only two of those buggers at his cell and they know the routine."

"Only two guards?" Harmony asked in surprise.

The witch looked at her with amusement. "You haven't been here long, have you? Didn't you listen to what I said? He's harmless now. Everyone knows that. Why waste plenty of good men on one wizard?"

"I don't know, I just thought-"

"Oi! What are you doing, 6485?" the cook shouted when she looked up from the stove. She waved the spatula in Harmony's face. "You have more meals to serve! This isn't a buffet!"

"Calm yourself, Hilda," the older witch fussed. "She's delivering Level Six's meal."

"You think I give a unicorn horn about Level Six?" the cook said bitterly. "He can starve until midnight, for all I care!"

The older witch narrowed her eyes at the cook and placed her fists on her hips. It was easy to see who had the authority and the cook soon crumbled under the older woman's gaze.

The cook turned back to her busy stove and said, "I just finished one table's meal. Serve those and you can get the man his food, yes? Then hurry yourself back down here, or so help me…"

"Thank you, Hilda," the older witch said with a puckered smile.

Harmony bit her lips and hid her face behind a curtain of hair in order to keep the women from seeing her annoyance. She had so little time, every second was precious. She set down Voldemort's meal and picked up the tray that was overflowing with food. She left the kitchen with a worker who carried the rest of the table's food and went to the busy courtyard. The crowds had grown immensely since she first arrived. As the day went on, entertainers performed on the stage and currently a band was playing some upbeat music to keep people's spirits high. Her partner guided her to the table they had to serve, and when Harmony first caught sight of its occupants she nearly dropped the tray.

She could recognize that head of messy jet black hair anywhere. Harry Potter sat with his back to her at a large table with everyone: Ron, the rest of the Weasley's, and Harry's guard. They were given one of the tables in the VIP section of the courtyard with an unobstructed view of the stage. Harry was conversing intently with Alastor Moody. When Harmony set the tray on their table, she accidently bumped a glass of water and it fell over, shattering on the ground _. Just_  what she needed. They stopped talking and all eyes went to her. She gulped and sweat slicked the palms of her hands as she quickly fell to her knees to mop up the water with her apron. When she did what she could, she stood back up and finished setting down plates in front of people.

Fortunately, they ignored her as she worked quickly. Except for one. As Harmony set a goblet down in front of Mr. Weasley, her eyes glanced up to where Moody sat. His normal eye was trained on Harry who was speaking, but his Mad-Eye was focused raptly on her. As she moved around the table, the bright blue eye followed, and Harmony had the horrible feeling he could see right through her disguise. He was the last one to be served and after she set his plate down before him, she turned to leave.

"Excuse me, Miss," Moody called to her.

She froze.

"You dropped something."

She turned around and saw Moody holding up her empty flask that once contained her Polyjuice potion _. How in the-?_  The flask must've fallen out of her pocket when she bent down to clean the spilled water. She accepted it back and dropped it in her pocket without a word, not meeting his eyes. Harmony swiftly turned around and left, returning to the kitchen. She leaned against the cold wall for a moment to catch her breath. Her heart hadn't stopped pounding since she arrived and she knew it would be a while before it calmed again. Her mind spun now that she was positive Harry was here. She still had no idea how she was going to sneak Voldemort from his cell and off the island. What if another fight broke out, like at the Battle of Hogwarts? It would be just like before: Harry would see her betrayal first-hand.

Her heart thumped painfully against her chest. She pulled her collar away from her neck, suddenly feeling claustrophobic, and she gasped. The deep breaths slowed her heart some, but her mind continued to reel. She slowly closed her eyes, and when she opened them, they landed directly on the meal she was to deliver to Voldemort. She uncurled her fingers from her collar, and without another thought she strode over to the tray, picked it up, and headed to the stairs.

The journey to the sixth level was silent. Everyone was on the first floor, leaving Harmony to trek up the stone stairs alone. The strangest thing, there were no Menkar guards on any of the floors she passed. They must all have been ordered to secure the courtyard and keep an eye on incoming audience members.

Harmony knew she reached level six when she saw two large guards standing in front of the cell at the end of the corridor. She took a deep breath and began walking towards them. Glancing to her left and right, she noticed the rumors had been true. All the cells on each side of the hall were empty; there was only the cell at the very end occupied. As she drew nearer, the outline of a body behind the bars became clearer. Her eyes never left the figure and by the time she was standing in front of the cell, she realized her legs had turned to jelly and her knees knocked together beneath her dress. Seeing her Menkar cloak, the guards did nothing to acknowledge her; even if they did, she would have been oblivious to their actions.

Voldemort, in the flesh, sat on the sorry excuse of a bed with his forearms on his knees, head bowed low. If it wasn't for her loud breathing, he might not have noticed her standing there staring at him. He looked up at her and, timidly, Harmony's gaze shot down to the tray in her hands. In her peripheral vision, she saw him stand up from the bed and walk nearer to her. His close proximity sucked out all the oxygen from the air and Harmony's heart pounded as she tried to breathe normally. Her throat went dry and she licked her lips, daring herself to look Voldemort in the face.

She cast her gaze up at him.

Her knees almost buckled when she saw the striking blue eyes that could belong to none other than the Dark Lord. Her lips parted and her mouth fell open slightly as she observed him. He had let his black hair grow out and it was slicked back, away from his face. His marble skin was as pale as always, only more so now, and dark circles hooded his eyes, making the iridescent blue stand out. She could tell the time at Menkar had been hard on him, but he was tough and he scrutinized her guardedly.

Now that Voldemort was before her—not in sleep but in reality—it dawned on her the intensity of her actions. She wanted to touch him, just to make sure he was real and not some illusion, but this would have seemed peculiar to the Menkar guards and she didn't want to risk blowing her cover just yet.

Harmony looked back down, observing the cell door. A break in the bars gave her enough space to slide the tray on through to him. He grasped it and set the tray down on his bed. The moment he took the food, Harmony inched her wand out from her sleeve and grasped it in her fist. With quick precision, she cast two  _Stupefy_ 's at the guards on either side of her. They had been taken by surprise and fell unconscious to the floor before Voldemort even had time to look up from his food. When he turned to her again, he saw only Harmony standing before him on the other side of the cell doors. The corners of his lips twitched upward.

With her breath coming in quick gasps, Harmony dropped to the ground next to one of the guards and threw back his Menkar cloak. She found the set of keys on his neck, tucked beneath his shirt. She tugged the chain off his neck and jumped up to the cell door. Voldemort watched her silently as she unlocked the door and slid it open. Impulsively, she reached a hand out and touched his arm as though to assure her he was real. His dark eyebrows furrowed and he looked down at her hand.

"It's me," she said.

His head shot up to her, as though the sound of her voice sparked something within him. Harmony jolted at this reaction and she smiled encouragingly.

"Do you remember?" she asked, her voice heavy and pleading. "Do you know the sound of my voice?"

He opened his mouth to speak, but after a quiet moment, he shut it again and shook his head. Harmony sighed and her shoulders sagged.

"That's alright," she assured him and grasped his arm tightly. "You'll know soon enough. I'll figure out a way. I promise you, I'll find a way to restore your memories."

Harmony released her hold on him and went back down to one of the unconscious guards. She undid the clasps to his cloak and tugged his arms out of their sleeves. When the Menkar cloak was free, she tossed it up to Voldemort.

"Quick," she said. "Put it on. I'm still not sure exactly how we're going to get out of here, but a little disguise is better than none at all."

After he threw the cloak on over his pale blue Menkar clothes, Harmony grasped his hand and tugged him along down the corridor. When at the staircase, she peered over the railing, looking out for anyone coming up. When in the clear, they sprinted down, pausing every now and then to look out for people. At the bottom of the stairs near the kitchen, the older witch she spoke to earlier came flying around the corner. Harmony swiftly leaped at Voldemort and covered his head with the hood of the cloak. She pushed his shoulder slightly away so that when the witch saw them, she couldn't see Voldemort's face.

"6485, there you are," she said impatiently. "What took you so long? All you had to do was walk up there, drop off the food, and walk back. It's not that difficult."

"I'm sorry," Harmony said, her eyes darting nervously to Voldemort.

"Get back to the kitchen soon or Hilda is going to have a fit."

"Yes, ma'am." Harmony stretched her lips in an apologetic smile.

The witch only glanced at Voldemort before turning around and walking back to the kitchen. Harmony released her breath and grasped Voldemort's hand once again. The only way off the island was by boat, so the harbor was their only option. Harmony knew that through the kitchen was the courtyard and across the courtyard were the front gates. Past those was the path down to the harbor. They had a long way to go and the task would be suicidal, but there was no other way. They did have the element of surprise on their side. No one would expect Voldemort to be simply walking around through the crowds. With his hood shadowing his face, they had a chance.

In the kitchen, Voldemort kept his head bowed low as they strode quickly to the door.

"6485!" the cook shouted. "There you are! I have seven orders up, get serving-"

"Yes, ma'am," Harmony said without slowing. "I'll get to that right away."

She and Voldemort left the kitchen and entered the courtyard. Off in the distance, she saw Harry Potter sitting with the Weasley's and his guard, and she grasped Voldemort's hand tighter. They kept close to the walls of the courtyard, shirking away from the crowds as much as possible. When they reached the gates, she smiled at the guards and they waved her on through. They took five steps, and then the air exploded with sounds.

Alarms rang from the towers surrounding Menkar, voices shouted from loudspeakers. Wand lights were cast up into the air in warning.

"Damn," Harmony muttered, frozen in place.

They looked over their shoulder and saw guards darting from one place to the other, causing havoc throughout the large crowd. Harmony could hear bits of what was said over the loudspeakers by an authoritative voice, "Level Six…escaped…all units… terminate…"

Harmony and Voldemort looked at one another.

"Time to run," she said.

At once, they sprinted down the steep side of the bluff. Harmony held her wand tightly in her hand ready to use. She didn't dare look over her shoulder; she could hear thundering footsteps pounding the earth as they were pursued down the path. Her adrenaline rushed through her veins, allowing her to move down the hill smoothly and skillfully, but it masked what she failed to notice until she was tripping over her cloak. The Polyjuice potion was wearing off, sooner than she thought. As she ran, she shrunk to her own height and the black short-cropped hair grew back into her dark blonde curls. She had to hike up her cloak to avoid tripping on the hem. With a glance over at Voldemort, she saw the hood to his cloak had blown back. They were both revealed, now there was nothing left to disguise their identities.

What were they to do when they reached the harbor? What if there weren't even any boats there to escape onto? Harmony's questions were answered when they rounded a corner in the path and the view of the harbor was revealed to them. Harmony nearly tripped over her own feet at the sight. There was a boat in the harbor, luckily. But it wasn't full of the usual audience members.

Death Eaters, unmistakable in their dark garb, filled the boat and they fought off the Ministry and Menkar workers at the harbor.

"My Lady!" a familiar voice called from the boat and she saw Mag standing at the bow waving to her.

Voldemort was way ahead of her. The moment he saw the boat, he high-tailed it out of the harbor and joined the Death Eaters. She quickly followed, ducking her head low to avoid the line of fire. Mag grasped her shoulder, pushing her down safely below the rail.

"Get below deck!" he shouted in her ear. Then he released her and jumped up with a battle cry. Green flashes burst from the tip of his wand as he laughed manically.

Harmony found Voldemort's hand again and gripped it as though he were a life line. They kept their heads low as they dodged between the Death Eaters and ducked safely below deck. The wood and steel surrounding them muffled the sounds of fighting, and all they heard was their own quick and heavy breaths. Voldemort ran a hand through his hair habitually.  _Strange_ , Harmony thought,  _he never used to do that before_. Perhaps swiping his memory clean allowed him to start over and attain new mannerisms. Did that mean his personality has changed as well? He leaned against the wall and his chest rose and fell as he caught his breath. He looked over at her out of the corner of his eyes and straightened after noticing that she was gazing at him carefully.

Her attention broke when the floor beneath their feet quaked. Harmony grabbed his arm for support, but the movement quickly stopped. They must have finally set sail and Harmony slumped against the wall in relief. They heard quick footsteps above their heads. Harmony wasn't ready to be disturbed by any Death Eaters. She just got him back; she wanted to have more time with him alone.

Harmony spotted an open door nearby. Peering inside, she saw a living quarters with bunk beds and a desk. A round window across from her showed the water flying by as the boat sped through the sea.

"In here," she said, waving him to follow.

She walked in and stood at the window, gazing out. Behind her she heard the door close with a metallic  _click_.

"When we get off the boat," she said, watching the sky which had darkened with storm clouds, "you're coming with me. I don't know where, but we can't stay here. Those men on deck will only bring us trouble, do you understand? I know they helped us escape, but they're the kind of witches and wizards that give Azkaban prison a purpose. When the time comes, we're going to sneak away from them and set off on our own." She added quietly, "I can't think of anything else that we could possibly do." Harmony bit her lip and sighed, lowering her head. "I know you have no idea who I am, but please know that you can trust me. I'm not like those up on deck. I want to help you." She hesitated, finding her words. "You see, it is my fault you don't remember your past and I want you to get your memories back. It's only fair to you. I know this will sound mad, but you've been sending me dreams ever since you lost your memory. While you sleep, you're…who you used to be—the man you were. And it is this that gives me hope that you can be helped. If you accept it." Harmony closed her eyes and finished in a gentle voice, "And I hope you do, for all of our sake. You, me, and our-"

She froze mid-sentence when arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. They constricted, holding her tighter against his body. He rested his chin on her shoulder and brushed his lips against her ear.

"I'd love to spend some time with you  _alone_ ," the voice purred.

Harmony's eyes popped open and her blood ran cold in her veins. That voice didn't belong to Voldemort. That voice, deep and taunting, she remembered gave her nightmares while she stayed at the Riddle mansion.  _It couldn't be-_

Harmony twirled around in his arms expecting to see…but it wasn't. Voldemort still stared down at her, but his mouth was in a tight, mocking grin. Was she going mad?

But then something about him began to change. His skin, over his face and arms, began to bubble and boil. Harmony only stared in mute horror as his features shifted, his eyes darkened to brown, and his hair grew long and mangy.

Harmony choked back a cry when she saw that Voldemort no longer had his arms wrapped around her, but Barty Crouch Jr. instead.

Impulsively, she shoved her hands into his chest and pushed Barty away. He reluctantly let go and she forced herself against the wall as hard as she could, wishing she could disappear through it.

"N-no," she moaned, shaking her head. She stared at the man before her with wide eyes. "What's going on? Where's-"

"I'm right here," Barty said, holding his arms open wide as though to embrace her. She winced and slinked further away from him. He stuck his bottom lip out. "I'm hurt," he said. "I almost expected you'd missed me, after all we've been through together. But I get it. You're all hot and heavy for the Master, that's fine." He reached a hand into the pocket of his trousers and pulled out a vile full of liquid. "I don't mind changing back if that's what turns you on." He uncorked the bottle.

Harmony lashed out and slapped the vile from his hand. It slipped away and shattered on the floor.

Barty turned on her, his brown eyes hard with fury. "That was at least a month's worth of Polyjuice potion!"

Harmony darted around him, making for the door. But when she turned the handle, it was locked. She flipped the switch above the handle, but before she could throw it open his arms coil around her waist, pulling her back.

"I'm not finished with you yet," he said with his chapped lips against her ear.

Barty picked her up off the ground and Harmony kicked her legs in the air, fighting to get him off balance. He struggled her over to one of the bunk beds and pinned her down upon it. His mouth was all over her, kissing and sucking and licking. She nearly screamed out in her desire to get away from him. He fought his way between her legs and his hands worked feverishly to lift up her dress. She tore her face away from his when he kissed her lips with his open mouth. With her head on its side, she spotted her wand on the ground beside the bed; it had fallen out in the struggle. While Barty was busy undoing the front of his trousers, Harmony reached her hand out from beneath him and snatched up her wand.

" _Crucio_!" she shrieked, and the curse hit him square in the face.

Barty screamed at the top of his lungs, contorting himself into painful spasms. He lurched off the bed and slammed onto the floor. Harmony jumped away from him and hurriedly covered her naked legs. Barty's gasping cries of agony followed her as she threw open the door and ran out. Without looking back, she sprinted up onto the deck.

The storm had caught up with them and raindrops streaked all around her. Harmony frantically looked around for anything to answer the questions bellowing in her head. She wanted to shout at all the Death Eaters who passed her, "Wait, we have the wrong man! That's not Voldemort!" But something told her they already knew exactly who he was. She needed answers.

Harmony ran around the length of the boat until she found him. Mag was shouting orders at a group of Death Eaters and bowed to her when she approached him.

"You know that the man I just brought on board isn't Lord Voldemort, yes?"

"Yes, my Lady," he said with a piqued frown. "Damn, that Barty can never follow orders."

"What do you mean?" Harmony pleaded. "Do you know where the real Voldemort is?"

"Er," he looked over her shoulder and his black eyes followed a man that came over and stood beside them.

Harmony only glanced at the man, but had to do a double take. It was Marek. And he was alive! She almost thought he had been killed after murdering Zeth at the Underground tournament. She opened her mouth to acknowledge him, but Mag beat her to it.

"My Lord," he said, nodding his head to Marek.

_My Lord?_

"I apologize," Mag continued, "but she tells me Barty already made himself known to her."

"That is alright," he replied.

Harmony's mouth dropped. Those were the first words she had ever heard Marek say and his voice was staggeringly familiar.

"I was on my way down to her anyway to reveal myself." He reached a hand up and Harmony watched, enthralled, as he pulled down his face scarf, and then tapped the side of his head with his wand making the color of his eerie brown eyes melt and fade into the tip if his wand leaving perfect, normal,  _stunning_ blue eyes.

Harmony's legs buckled and the real Voldemort caught her beneath the elbows. Mag leaned in to help, but Voldemort ordered him to get back to work. When he returned his attention back to her, his lips were curved upward in a mischievous smile. Droplets of rain dripped off his black lashes onto her mouth as she looked up at him. Her peripheral vision became hazy with static as she focused on his eyes. She had lost the feeling in her legs and Voldemort let her down slowly, but kept his hands grasped on her arms.

"You," she choked. Her mouth had suddenly gone dry. "You never lost your memory, did you?"

"Of course not," he replied with a chuckle.

Harmony didn't remember closing her eyes, only that everything went black and after that: nothing.


	30. Chapter 30

After she came to, Harmony was somewhere too dark to see any surroundings. There was only Voldemort's face above as he held her in his arms. At once she was overcome with the desire to send her fist into his proportionately narrow nose or wrap her arms around his neck in a furious hug until he choked. All this time he had been someone he wasn't and was somewhere he never was. Harmony's mind reeled. Voldemort must have noticed her discomfort, for his fingers curled tighter around her back and thighs as though to warn her to keep still. Voices, which she had little care for in that moment, spoke around them in low tones.

Through her whirlwind of emotions, she realized that they were no longer on the boat. The rocking motion was gone and there was the unmistakable rush of grass beneath his footsteps. Her hands rested in her lap and she curled her fingers around the opening to his cloak and tugged to get his attention.

His eyes, which had been concentrating hard on what was before him, eased at her movement. He glanced down and Harmony couldn't suppress the choking sensation when his penetrating blue eyes centered on her. He said nothing. He didn't need to; the corners of his lips curled upward into a teasing smile, and then he looked up again.

Questions boiled Harmony's insides and she knew that no matter what happened she was going to get those questions answered. She has been in the dark for far too long, and it was time she understood all the complexities that has surrounded her life thus far.

Absolutely  _willing_  herself to be patient, Harmony took a moment to observe her carrier without hindrance.

She recognized Marek's clothes; they were dark, like any other Death Eaters, and it was strange to now take Marek's head and put Voldemort's there instead. Marek was Voldemort, Voldemort was Marek. Harmony said this several times in her mind until it became somewhat conceivable. Voldemort had let his black hair grow and it was untamed with tresses teasing into his eyes. When she had first met him, he kept his hair tidy, clean-cut, and out of the way. It was as though with the new hair came a new person; he was no longer that perfectionist wizard, but untamed, unruly,  _uncontrollable_.

A fire blazed in her middle with startling attraction to this alarming man.

He had lied his way through her dreams, made her believe he was on the brink of execution, welcomed her sexual advances and then  _denied_ _them!_  Why? He was a trickster, a manipulator. He had been playing her all along.

Harmony couldn't stop the groan that escaped her mouth and Voldemort looked down at her in concern. She only stared back at him.

There was a large group of people around them as he carried her along. She couldn't see their faces properly in the shadows of the evening, but she knew they were Death Eaters. And there were so  _many_. Had there been this many while she was on the boat? It seemed now the bodies had doubled into a small army.

They walked up a small incline and gravity pulled her tighter into Voldemort's arms. Out of the corner of her eye, a large shadow loomed and soon filled her line of vision. The outline of the shadow was unmistakable; she could hardly forget that beautiful but ominous architecture that belonged to none other than the Riddle mansion.

He had brought her back to where it all began.

A low female voice spoke out through the silence. "Several more have arrived, my Lord."

"Excellent," he replied in a deeply pleased tone. "How many?"

"Ten or so, my Lord," the woman answered after a pause.

Harmony felt against her when his chest quaked with a chuckle that told her he was exceedingly happy with this news.

"Gather all of them in the foyer and after a short respite we shall commence our journey."

There was a chorus of agreement, and then they entered the Riddle mansion. The moment the heavy door opened, they were met with the buzz of conversation which immediately ceased with Voldemort's appearance. Without stopping, he continued through the foyer into the belly of the mansion. On the wall, Harmony spotted the portrait of Merope Riddle, Voldemort's mother. The woman had dark, lustrous hair and familiar blue eyes.

If Harmony could ask the witch one thing it would be, "Are you proud of your son?"

Her answer would be the million galleon question. After all the monstrosities that he has committed, would love for him remain? A mother's love was supposed to be unconditional and Harmony now understood.

"Remain down here," Voldemort muttered to someone beside them, and with a hint of amusement he said, "I do not expect this to take very long."

They continued on alone. She didn't have to question where he was taking her. Her head rocked back and forth on his shoulder as he took the stairs, and at the top she saw the memorable bedroom at the end of the hallway. The door was open, and as usual, a fire was blazing in the hearth, an inferno waiting to consume them.

Voldemort strolled over the threshold and the door shut behind them. He went over to the large four poster bed and dropped her onto it. Harmony grunted with surprise, but quickly recovered when she grabbed the closest object at hand—a pillow—and commenced to hit him repeatedly.

"What. Is. Going. On?" she said through her teeth, emphasizing each word with a blow from the pillow.

Voldemort let her exert herself, then he snatched the pillow from her and tossed it away. He grasped her arms and pulled her close to his face so he had her undivided attention.

"I told you," he said with an intense gaze, but his smile suggested he expected this kind of reaction from her. "Remember that time we dreamed together in the forest, you told me you didn't want to lie anymore. But me? No, I spoke the truth when I said my lying days were not yet over."

"But for all this time," Harmony replied, "you were never really in any danger. You were practically with me the  _whole time_."

"As Marek."

Harmony squirmed in his hold and he reluctantly released her. She rubbed her brow in thought, desperately trying to connect the dots. "Of course, it makes perfect sense," Harmony had to admit. "You were exceptionally well at dueling at the tournament, and you could have beat me." She looked up at him, "But you didn't, you let me win."

"Which was no easy task, I'll admit," he said, bowing his head slightly. "But it was the right thing to do. You needed the money."

Harmony thought all the way back to when she had first met Marek—correctly, Voldemort. It had been at Snape's home, Spinner's End. He and Mag were there.

"You and Mag stole the Polyjuice potion ingredients."

He nodded.

"For…for Barty, yes?" How could she forget that moment when Voldemort's face had melted down and contorted itself into Barty's after she saved him from Menkar?

He nodded again deeply with a small proud smile on his lips. He was impressed with how well she was catching on.

Harmony covered her face with a hand and shook her head, "I don't understand."

"I'll start from the beginning, shall I?" He raised a dark eyebrow at her.

She dropped her hand from her face and looked up at him pleadingly. Voldemort beckoned her to sit down on the bed and she complied.

"Let's see," he muttered under his breath. "Where did this all start? Oh, yes," he smiled tightly down at her, "at Shell cottage. When you obliterated my memory. Or tried to anyway." He shook his head sadly as though taking pity on a child, something rarely seen on the face of Lord Voldemort. "I was able to stop your  _Obliviate_  at the last second, for the most part. It was more powerful than I expected and it knocked me out momentarily.  _Tsk_ , you really wanted me gone, didn't you?"

"You had been trying to kill me!" Harmony shouted, jumping up from the bed.

"Kill you?" he replied with a hint of uncertainty.

"I told you the truth because I trusted you, but you only became furious. The way you looked at me, I feared for my life!"

Voldemort stared at her, but then he snorted and laughter filled the room, mocking her.

"I could not kill you if I tried!" he said between chuckles. "Not even the purest rage could make me daft enough to kill my own chosen one. As I have told you before, I was inconsolable with anger, which I had every right to be. You have no reason to whine."

"But the way you jumped at me," she said breathlessly, "you looked as though you wanted nothing more than to smother me to death."

"I  _did_  jump at you," he said hesitantly, "but  _killing_  you wasn't what I had had in mind." He advert his gaze as dignified as he could, and Harmony saw a blush creep into his cheeks.

She understood and looked down at her hands with a small, "Oh." Silently, she sat back down on the bed.

He cleared his throat and continued, "When I came to, I watched as you ran from Shell cottage. I had a mind to pursue you, but my head was too muddled from your spell. What I needed at that time was a plan. So after I could think clearly, I head to the first place I knew my presence would be needed: here, the Riddle mansion. Any of my family that survived the Battle of Hogwarts was to return here to regroup. More appeared than I had expected, and as it turned out many had ran away like cowards after the Aurors arrived. The first Death Eater I encountered was greeted by my wrath, but the second I pitied enough to use for my plans."

Voldemort sniffed, sticking his nose in the air as though reluctant to continue. "Obviously my original plan of overtaking Hogwarts by force had come too soon, my army too small. So—since I was even more lacking in followers—I thought of a more… _subtle_ approach." Here he smiled mischievously. "As it turned out, your attempt in erasing my memories set up for the perfect plan. Using my own supply of Polyjuice potion, I put Barty Crouch Jr. under my persona and sent him to the village near Shell cottage where he would be found. I used insiders at Menkar to send Barty the rest of the Polyjuice potion taken from Spinner's End. If the world believed I was harmless, then all eyes of the Ministry would be off the real me, who was still working to restore my legion of followers.  _Think about it_ , all this time I have been a free man to do all that my work requires."

When he paused Harmony intervened, "So while Barty pretended to be you at Menkar, you pretended to be Marek to protect your true identity."

Voldemort began unraveling the black scarf around his neck which he had used to cover his face as Marek. When it was undone, he handed her the fabric. "This belongs to you, actually."

She accepted it and at once recognized the texture; it had been  _her_  face scarf once. She looked up at him in wonder.

"You left it behind," he explained. "It only seemed appropriate that I donned it to hide myself, after you had worn it all that while to hide from me."

"It was to protect myself," she said.

"Yes, well, now that scarf has lived a full life, you should keep it close."

Harmony wrapped it around her neck and his scent wafted to her nose from the fabric.

"Now," Voldemort said, reclaiming her attention, "the dreams were quite fascinating, really. After I had sent Barty on his way, and I had started my search for more followers, I had one other desire and one alone: to find my chosen one. Without my chosen one, I am incomplete and finding you became my priority once again. I wasn't positive on where to start looking. But one night I fell asleep with the longing to possess you and—to my amazement—my mind fled my body and found you. I saw you sleeping on the floor and somehow I knew that what I was witnessing was really happening. My mind was confounded at first to how it was possible. I supposed it was an effect brought forth from the Serpentine charm, something I perhaps overlooked. But then I understood. You made contact with Harry Potter, don't deny it, I felt it. My soul in him had died, but through you I was capable of making contact again. After that moment, I understood that somehow at some time a part of my soul flitted into your being.

"I immediately planned on using this to my advantage. I found myself sleeping more often just to catch a glimpse of you. In our dreams, I asked you where you were, hoping you would reveal your location which would allow me to find you. By this time, Magnus—whom was ordered to treat me like any other Death Eater—accompanied me around while I searched. Hoping you hadn't strayed too far, we stayed at an inn near Shell cottage. Miraculously, you and Severus happened to be at the same inn. I kept this to myself and focused all my attention on trying to convince you to come to me." Here Voldemort paused and Harmony watched as his face became skewed with emotions that seemed both hurt and angry. "I was put off by your reluctance to do as the Serpentine charm implied. I knew you were running from our Death Eaters, but I was sure I could somehow convince you to join them, for my sake. When I figured you were too stubborn to be forced into coming back, I decided that I didn't just want you to come back: I wanted you to  _want_  to come back."

For a moment their eyes met, brown to blue.

"So I lied, I made you believe that I was days from death sitting cold and alone in a Menkar cell."

Harmony scoffed and said, "You tried to guilt me into doing what you wanted."

"Hardly," he said, smirking. "You didn't want to be the Death Eater's new leader. What you wanted was me. And yes," he nodded without breaking eye contact, "I used that to my advantage as well."

Harmony looked away, feeling her cheeks grow warm with the truth to his words.

"I waited, silent and stealthy, for you to make your move. Of course, you didn't act until the day of the execution, which was fine." He grinned, "It made for a more dramatic escape with all hell breaking loose among the audience and guards."

"I'm glad at least someone found it amusing," Harmony said darkly, staring at the wall opposite Voldemort. "While I was so distraught over your upcoming death, you were off having a laugh with your new mates."

He leaned in close to her, his close proximity sucking up all the air. Then a cold finger caressed the length of her cheek bone.

" _So distraught_ ," he repeated, his voice dripping with pleasure, and he took her chin in his long, pale fingers. "How I've longed to hear those words from you."

She could feel her face go red and she welcomed his cooling touch. But then his fingers dug into her skin and she winced. He leaned forward until his mouth was right in her ear, and he said with a razor sharp tone.

"So how does it feel?" His breath was hot on the side of her face. "How does it feel knowing you've been lied to  _all this time?_ If I remember correctly, there should be some kind of fury deep within, kind of like a black hole in the pit of your stomach." He released her chin, but his face remained breathtakingly close. "You had once said that you were falling for me, falling in love. But what about now? What does your  _love_  say  _now?_ "

She flinched at his words, but she never moved away from him. "No matter how horrible you are, no matter how misguided you actions may be, my feelings for you can never change." Love may not be what he wanted, but it was what he needed, Harmony knew. "We're too closely bonded now for anything else. I'm a part of you, remember?"

His nod was so subtle she could have imagined it. For a moment he stared deep into her as though trying to solve the puzzle to the universe. Then he blinked as though waking from a dream, but this wasn't like before. He no longer had to dream to see her; this was reality.

Voldemort stood up from the bed and observed her silently from above. With a small smile he touched her lips with the tip of his finger and whispered, "You are my only exception."

Their warm and safe illusion was shattered when they heard a gut wrenching crash downstairs. Both of them quickly strode over to the door to check the source of the noise, but something through the window caught Voldemort's eye and he left the door to lean over the sill. Harmony heard him swear under his breath. She ran over to join him and the spectacle made fear course through her veins like lava.

At the opposite end of the mansion, people were gathering in mobs, holding their wands above their heads in obvious protest. Their clothing didn't resemble a Death Eater's, and their shouts confirmed Harmony's belief that these could be nobody else but Aurors. But the sight of them wasn't what made dread contort in her stomach or sweat roll down her neck. Red, orange, yellow,  _furious_ flames flew up into the night sky, engulfing everything in its reach.

Riddle mansion was burning.


	31. Chapter 31

_He had enjoyed his little free rein around the Wizarding world. He had almost forgotten what it was like to truly be capable of walking around without fear of prosecution. Certainly, he had to keep away from Ministry officials while in his Death Eater garb as Marek, but it had been_ fun _. He had worn his faux personage well, and when it came time to reveal himself to_ her _, the satisfaction in seeing her surprise shot a torrent of thrills through his body. He would have traded years of his life in exchange to experience that moment over and again._

 _Spending time with his chosen one as Marek had been more entertaining than he had expected. He had to admit, keeping an eye on her while undercover was almost preferable compared to whenever he was with her as_ _himself_ _. A pang of envy had crawled its way through his belly when he thought about how quickly she seemed to warm up to Marek—silly as it was, since they were one and the same. She had feared the Death Eater at first for his chasing her, but at the Underground tournament, she had embraced him, even convinced him to_ dance _. Of course, if he had been there as himself, she would have had to do a lot more to convince him to dance in front of such people. He liked to think it was the fact that they shared the same soul that helped her warm up to him as Marek, but…he was unsure. As Marek, he had been more carefree with his actions. For example, he had tried to kiss her amid their dancing without fear of scrutiny from his Death Eaters. Perhaps it was that which made her more comfortable: his ability to act without fear of judgment._

 _Was that what people did when they were in love? Kiss? It seemed only right after what they had done all those weeks ago at Shell cottage. It seemed_ appropriate _to touch her in such a way. But at the same time he was wary. These thoughts—_ thesefeelings _—toward her distracted him day in and day out. A distraction was the last thing he needed, but the lust for her was unavoidable. They plagued his mind from the dawn of morning to the darkest point at night._

_The affinity with his chosen one always remained, even in solitude. But while holding her in his arms on the way to Riddle mansion, as he looked down at her to see her staring in return, he felt powerful magic coursing through his veins stronger than ever before. Her presence, while at once demanding, made him feel as though he had found an oasis in the middle of a desert, a_ _paradise_ _amid_ _hell_ _. Did she know of the effect she had on him? Did she have any idea of the thoughts that would race through his mind at the sight of her?_

_The effect was maddening, and when he had her up in his chambers he wanted to throw it in her face how much her lies had almost ruined him. He wanted her to feel what he had felt when she relayed the truth of her betrayal to him. He was sure her thoughts of him would change. When they dreamed together last, she had been begging him to take her, and_ _—_ damn it _—the temptation nearly killed him to refuse, but after she knew_ _his_ _truth, would she still want him to touch her in the same way?_

_He was sure her affections for him would crack and fade, like his Muggle father's love for his mother after she told him the truth of her witchcraft. Deep down he knew love never lasted._

_But that look in her eyes when she told him how her feeling could never change, even after his confession, tantalized every particle of his being._

_How was it_ _possible_ _to_ _still_ _care,_ _still_ _feel compassion and desire for someone who has wronged you?_

_The question stumped him and, as in his nature, he wanted to know the answer, to understand. He_ _wanted_ _to comprehend her feelings and why her love for him had not wavered. He was actually envious of her fortitude. It was a comfort to know someone would stand by him, no matter what. He wished more of his Death Eaters showed the same loyalty, but then again, she was the only one on the face of the planet who would ever possess the Serpentine charm, she was unique. She was one of a kind._

_She was his only exception._

_~~~_

Riddle mansion was burning.

The Aurors' wand lights cut through the shadows like large fireflies and each shot increased the size of the threatening flames. Luckily, Voldemort's room was on the opposite end of the mansion to the fire but that was little consolation; within minutes the entire house was going to be engulfed.

Voldemort grabbed her hand the same moment Death Eaters came flying out the front door, and he tore her out of the room so fast her arm was nearly pulled from its socket. When they reached the bottom of the stairs, Voldemort shouted something to one of his followers. Harmony didn't hear; she was too focused on the thought of the fire burning all the paintings, all the rooms,  _all the books_. She whimpered from the longing that shot through her chest.

Instead of taking the front door where Aurors waited outside, Voldemort sped down a hallway to a back door. This route was riskier, forcing them to run towards the growing fire, but he kicked down the door before they could be licked by the flames. He pushed her through first and wrapped an arm around her waist to keep her steady. Harmony was wobbly on her feet and muttered somberly.

"The books," she moaned, "all those books, your whole library… _gone_. We have to save them-"

"Books can be replaced," Voldemort shouted in her ear over the roar of the fire. "We are leaving, now!"

It was so  _hot_ , like they were standing right next to the sun. Sweat was breaking out on both their brows as Voldemort had to tug her away forcibly by the waist. Harmony gazed achingly up at Riddle mansion, but she let herself be taken away. He was guiding her towards the protection of the forest where they would be able to avoid the Aurors as well as the heat.

They were at the edge of the forest in the field when Voldemort froze. Harmony watched with perplexity as he unhanded her and began searching his pockets. His disappointment was evident when he swore harshly under his breath. He spun around to face Riddle mansion and the flames flashed in his eyes like water set on fire. She could see the battle transpiring behind those eyes, and she feared she knew exactly what he was thinking.

"No," she said firmly.

Her voice interrupted his thoughts and he turned back to her. "I have to go back."

"No," she said through gritted teeth.

He shook his head and took a step closer to the inferno. "You don't understand. I must go back. I have to retrieve something that is very important."

"Don't be absurd!" she shouted and she had to restrain herself from slapping him across the face. "You're not going near there. Like you said about the books, they can be replaced-"

"I know what I said about the books!" he shouted, taking another heart wrenching step away from her. "But this isn't like the books. This can't be replaced! Go into the forest-"

"I'm not leaving you!" she screamed, tears welling in her eyes.

"Go into the forest," he ordered, ignoring her cry. "Hide nearby. If I don't return in ten minutes then you find my followers."

"I don't want anything to do with your followers!" She hated how her voice sounded high and childish, but the grief overfilled her insides, making her uncontrollable. "You said so yourself! It's  _you_  I want. I just got you back, you're not leaving me!"

He opened his mouth to retort, but the words caught in his throat. He looked at her, eyes intense, as the mansion burned behind him making the flames glow about his head like a demented halo. For a split second, Harmony was caught up in the radiance and could have easily imagined him to be some kind of beautiful angel from hell.

Then he gave a slight shake of the head and suddenly he was gone. She watched helplessly as he grew in distance from her and disappeared into Riddle mansion, completely swallowed now by the angry fire. She stared at the brilliant, blinding light, not daring to look away. Images of him ducking and dodging the collapsing debris impeded her rational thought, and instead of retreating into the forest to hide, she stood there paralyzed. The seconds ticked off in her mind with each crackle of the flames; each moment he was gone was another reminder that she was, again, completely alone. She saw flashes of green and red light up the trees near the front of the mansion and that reassured her that the Aurors were being held back by the Death Eaters, giving her a chance to wait, _wait just a little bit longer_.

At five minutes, she began to pace, wringing her hands over her middle. She found herself running her fingertips delicately over her stomach, imagining the child growing inside her.  _This isn't how it should be_ , she thought,  _he can't die_. Not before she could even tell him about the child. She cried out, running fingers roughly through her hair,  _I haven't even told him yet_. She cast her eyes back to the fire, squinting, trying to make out any moving figures through the flames.

Half of Riddle mansion collapsed. The large movement took her by surprise and she screamed aloud, her hands going over her mouth. The once brilliant architecture fell to the ground like charred toothpicks. Sparks flew up into the sky and fell back down slowly as ash. The other half of Riddle mansion still remained and if he was still alive, that was the only place he could be.

She gnashed her teeth together and forced back a cry of exasperation. She should be  _doing_  something. Standing there as her world fell down by the ears wasn't going to solve anything. Her feet itched to sprint into the fire and search for him, pull him out if she needed to, but she had to do  _something_.

Looking over her shoulder, she looked into the dark forest. It was safe in there; she could hide, lay low, and wait. If she ran into the fire, survival was next to none. She had a choice and the answer depended on life or death. Was it worth it?

Harmony faced Riddle mansion and shot like a bullet towards the flames. The roar of the fire was muted from her ears and all she heard was her own frantic breathing. The heat was overwhelming, hitting her like a brick wall. The back door they had escaped through was still hanging open and she could see the furious red and yellow flames dancing inside like the gateway to hell. Her foot was a couple yards from the threshold and her body clenched, preparing to run through the fire without hesitation.

Suddenly the window beside the door exploded and glass shards flew outward as a flaming figure crashed through. Harmony gasped, falling backward with surprise and she slipped onto the ground. There she saw Voldemort writhing there beneath the broken window with half his torso on fire. What scared her most was he made no move to defuse the flames; his face was intensely skewed with pain. Before she could even take a breath of relief, she crawled over to him on the ground. Taking out her wand, she used _Aqua Eructo_  to put out the flames. But she could see it was too late, the fire had already burned through his right sleeve and shoulder leaving his once pale skin furiously red.

There was no time to spare. Harmony immediately started talking to him, begging him to stand. He moaned in response, teeth clenched. She grabbed the arm opposite of the burned one and wrapped it around her neck. Using every ounce of strength she had left, she heaved him up to his feet. He hissed in pain, but was able to move his legs under him to support his weight.

Harmony half dragged him away from Riddle mansion and eventually made it safely to the forest. But she couldn't handle his weight for long and had to stop to prop him against a tree.

Voldemort gasped, but his breath was ragged. "I…I had a place for us to…to Disapparate, but I can't." He shook his head and frustration flooded his blue eyes.

"Not yet," Harmony assured him. "We have to deal with your burns."

He scoffed. "That could take days."

Harmony scanned between the trees. "Isn't there a stream nearby?"

He nodded his head forward. "About fifty yards east from here."

She fasted his arm around her neck and began walking him on. They staggered and Voldemort complained, "This is getting us nowhere. The damned Aurors will be on us soon enough. Go on. Leave me here until I can walk myself."

Harmony ignored his complaints. She knew he was only trying to preserve his dignity. She wanted to tell him to damn his pride, but only wrapped her other arm around his waist for more support. He grumbled for the next thirty yards, but silenced when he accepted she wasn't going to comply.

The large stream cut through the forest like a snake slithering between the tree trunks. Voldemort's knees buckled when they reached the bank, and they fell together to the ground. He let Harmony undo what was left of his shirt, which she dunked into the water and then laid on his burns. He gasped, wincing, but relief eased on his face and he sighed deeply. The damage was done on his entire right arm, over his shoulder and up his neck. The fire had melted his skin and it was shiny with blisters. The burns were worst on his forearm, as though he had reached directly into a furnace.

She wondered what had been so important to him that he would risk his life so willingly to possess it. He wasn't carrying anything, so she assumed he had failed in retrieving whatever it was. She was curious though and itched to ask. But now wasn't the time.

She peeled the wet shirt off his burns, replenished it in the stream and laid it on again. Voldemort closed his eyes as the water cooled his skin. She still had her burn balm Snape made in her sac and she took it out.

"What's that?" he asked, eyeing the canister suspiciously.

"I got burned during the Underground tournament. I made it to the finals without getting too badly hurt, but this  _one_  wizard-"

"I know," he interrupted. "I was there."

 _Right_ , she thought,  _he was_   _Marek_. "Anyway, Snape made this to apply to my burns."

"Then you use them," he said, pulling away slightly. "They're for you. I can do without them."

"Don't be silly," she chided. "My burns aren't as bad as yours. Besides, he made more than I needed. Please just," she laid a hand on his bare chest to keep him close, "let me help you."

Voldemort looked away, but didn't move.

"Thank you," she said and opened the canister. She scooped the balm out with her fingers and started with the worst of the damage on his forearm.

"This will increase the healing," she said as she worked. "You should be fine to travel in a day or less." She could see the irritation in his eyes, but he said nothing. "These are too serious to be healed completely, though. You'll have scars, bad ones." Her eyes flickered up to his neck where the flaming red skin crept all the way up to his jawline; that would be difficult to conceal.

"I do not mind the scars," he replied simply. His hard blue eyes looked over at her. "Do you?"

She was taken aback by the question but answered honestly, "Of course not." She smiled slightly. "My parents always told me scars were a sign of character. They tell a story." Her smile slipped, "My parents taught me a lot of things. I miss them."

He cleared his throat. "They are…uh…Muggles, aren't they?"

"Yes," she said defensively, "They are successful dentists, very good at what they do."

"I'm sure they are. Your stubbornness had to come from  _somewhere_."

She looked up at him, but saw that he was grinning at her and she blushed, returning the smile. She now worked her fingers around the muscles in his shoulders. Voldemort closed his eyes, like stars snuffing out their lights, and sighed at her touch. She tried being as gentle as possible as her fingers caressed down his chest to the burns over his right lung. His skin absorbed the balm quickly and the pain etched on his brow faded away. When she rubbed his neck, he opened his eyes and looked at her. Their eyes met and he held her gaze. Her fingers slowed until she was merely holding her hand at the base of his neck, brushing her thumb over his collarbone.

Swiftly, he leaned forward and brought his lips to hers. When he closed his eyes, his lashes brushed on her cheek. Harmony hummed with pleasure when his tongue slipped inside her. She floated on a cloud of bliss at his gentleness. His affection instantly put her at ease, and she leaned against him. Even after he had pulled his lips delicately away they sat closely beside each other by the stream. She tucked her head under his chin and he buried his face in her hair, breathing deeply. His heart thudded in her ear—quick at first then back to normal—and she smiled against his skin.

Unable to Apparate and reluctant to leave the water source from the stream, they decided to make camp there for the night. Harmony found a group of trees nearby where Voldemort would be able to lay protected from the elements. She severed several large branches to prop up against the side of the trees to conceal them underneath. When their small makeshift home was finished, Harmony crawled in and lay on his side that was free of burns. She slipped off her cloak and draped it over the both of them. Voldemort wrapped his left arm around her, allowing her to rest her head on his chest.

Harmony didn't know where she was going to be tomorrow, or the day after that. All she knew was that at that moment she was right where she wanted to be.

She slowly fell asleep to the feel of his heart beating against her cheek.


	32. Chapter 32

Harmony woke with the bitter cold nipping at her nose. Shivers racked up and down her body even though she was pressed firmly against Voldemort's side. Her heart thumped wildly in her chest as the lasting images of a dream lingered in her mind's eye. This dream felt exactly like the others she shared with Voldemort, only this was different. Horribly different. It was as though instead of Voldemort slipping into her dreams, she dropped unwillingly into his nightmares.

She was walking up a grassy hill surrounded by the night. Smoke and fog drifted over the horizon, creeping at her ankles as she ascended. Everything was silent except for constant, incoherent whispers in her ear. They were male, female, young, and old voices. She tried to listen; to her it sounded as though they were telling stories, long drawn out tales of their lives. But as she drew closer to the peak of the hill, the voices faded into silence. She smelled fire in the air, burning of coal, wood, and flesh. Shadows raced past her, all of which were undefinable through the smoke and fog. Her instincts sensed the danger, her Serpentine charm burned, but still she walked closer to whatever horror resided on the other side of the hill.

Footsteps behind her. She felt a little hand grasp her sleeve. Harmony looked down and saw the top of a little girl's head; her hair was as black as sin, but curled down to her shoulders. By the child's height, she assumed the girl to be five, maybe older. Harmony spoke down to her soothingly, reassuringly. The child didn't look up at Harmony, but stared straight ahead. As Harmony turned her head to face forward, a shadow nearby caught her eye, slender and still. The shadow was unmistakable feminine.

A flash of green light caught her attention. She had reached the top of the hill and now realized her sense of danger has proven right. A valley dipped away from the hill and the land beyond stretched to infinity. Bodies, still and dead, littered the ground and fires raged through every building. A few lonely stragglers ran like frantic rabbits through the hellish scene, desperate to be free from danger. There was another flash of green and Harmony saw it emitted from a wizard standing a couple yards below her on the hill. It was him. He pointed his wand at the lonely stragglers and with another green cast; they collapsed to the ground, dead.

Harmony watched wordlessly as he went on and on, destroying the world without any hesitation. Harry Potter laid somewhere off to the side with Ginny and Ron close beside him. Thomas Riddle Senior was sprawled on her other side, near where her parents laid clutching each other lifelessly. She saw all this with grief choking at her heart, but she was helpless to put a stop to the destruction. The little girl gave a cry and she reached a hand down to run her fingers through her curly black hair.

When the spectacle before them was rid of every living human being, he turned slowly to face the feminine shadow standing near Harmony. The woman walked closer to them; the smoke and fog cleared and revealed Merope Riddle. Voldemort's mother wore a green gown only fit for a queen and she looked upon her son with unfathomable compassion and sadness in her eyes.

"Oh Tom," she sobbed, grasping a hand over her heart.

His eyes were black and cavernous as he stared back at his mother. His skin was paler than before, bringing direct contrast to his black hair. Harmony thought he looked dead, soulless.

He raised his wand and a beam of green light coursed through the foggy atmosphere and dispersed on Merope's chest. There was a small smile on her lips as she fell to the ground. He stared at the body for a silent moment.

Then he turned to them.

She tried to speak, but the child's cries preoccupied her and left her speechless. She hushed the girl, stroking her hair more ardently. He pointed his wand at them, but froze. She could see the hesitation in his eyes as he looked over Harmony and then the girl. The sight of the child made him drop his wand and something changed in his face. Recognition? Affection? He looked back at Harmony, then again to the child. He was trying to decide. Kill both? Kill one? Which one? Harmony could feel his emotions that came with each thought.

As she feared, he raised his wand again, but pointed it straight at her own chest. She didn't know whether to be frightened or relieved; at least he would spare the child if he killed herself. Harmony cast her eyes down to the little girl. This time, the child returned the gaze and looked back up at Harmony with penetrating blue eyes. Her small lips, like pink rose petals on a marble statue, widened in a sweet smile. In Harmony's peripheral vision, a beam of green light grew until it filled every shadow. Life left her cold and darkness swallowed her whole.

Then she woke.

Harmony poked her head out from under the cloak and her breath fogged in front of her face. Their make-shift shelter held for the night, but hardly compensated for the cold weather and a numbing layer of dew covered the cloak. The first thing she did was look over at Voldemort. Sweat creased his brow and the new burn on his neck creeping below his shirt collar was flaming red. She crept up onto her elbow gently, so not to wake him, and cool air rushed in between their bodies. Voldemort shivered and his eyes burst open. She could see the last traces of the dream etched on his face; she was curious how his nightmare had ended. Did he spare the little girl?

Voldemort's blue eyes flashed over at Harmony. She flinched and looked away. Did he know she saw the dream too? Did he know she saw him kill everyone, even her?

Voldemort shifted onto his elbow and winced. Harmony laid a gentle hand on his chest and pushed him back down. He gave in with a grunt. She reached over to her sac and brought out the burn balm. She pulled the cloak down to his waist and peeled his shirt away from his chest. He moved onto his side to allow her to tug his arm from his sleeve. When she smoothed on the cool balm he sighed heavily, closing his eyes and the muscles beneath her fingertips relaxed. After she finished, she mumbled an excuse to go over to the stream to wash her hands. Voldemort pulled her cloak up and his hard eyes followed her as she went away.

Harmony knelt on the rocks by the stream.

The dream still set her on edge. In her experience—though she detested admitting it— most of her dreams had a way of coming true: dreaming of Voldemort, seeing Riddle mansion burning. Divination was the only class she flopped in. It all just seemed a bit of rubbish, dream reading and tea leaves. But now? She didn't know. But of course, the dream they just shared couldn't possibly be a vision of the future: Voldemort's mother had been there, the dream couldn't possibly come true if she was dead.

But dreams reveal one's innermost thoughts and feelings. Perhaps this nightmare was trying to tell them something. She feared what exactly that "something" might be.

Harmony shook her head. "Rubbish," she muttered under her breath, and she bent over the water to dunk her hands in. She gasped against the cold and within seconds of scrubbing her skin was completely numb. After wiping her hands dry, she reached behind to undo her dress. She unclasped the back down to her waist and shimmied out of the sleeves. Her hands felt like blocks of ice as she applied the balm to her own burns. Gritting her teeth against the biting cold, she sensed the Serpentine charm slithering up her back, and she felt his eyes watching her. Feeling his eyes wasn't exactly correct, more like she felt his emotions while he watched her. It was easier to get a sense of what he felt now that they were in such close proximity.

When she was finished, she bended over once again to wash her hands. The motion of folding over the stream sent her head spinning and her stomach rolled. Nausea hit her like a brick wall. Her hand flew over her mouth, but it wasn't enough to stop her from being sick onto the side of the stream. Her face burned with embarrassment when Voldemort got up from their bed and came over to kneel beside her. His hands went to her bare waist for support. She shook her head to try to assure him she was perfectly fine. But then she bended over and threw up again by the stream.

"We need something to eat," he said. "And water, you need water. You must be dehydrated."

Harmony groaned and looked up at him. She needed to tell him the truth, that she was sick because she was pregnant with his child. But the words couldn't come out of her mouth, perhaps due to her mouth being spoilt with vomit. Her face twisted into a disgusted grimace.

His fingers traced her spine tenderly. "Clean yourself and we'll search for food. You don't need to whine, I'll help you." Harmony tried to shoo him off again but he moved her hands away and helped her back into the sleeves of the dress. She spent a couple minutes cleansing her mouth with the stream water, and when she was finished she put on her sac and cloak and they set off together into the forest.

A streak of lightning flashed across the sky and thunder rumbled between the many trees that surrounded them. A single drop of rain landed on Harmony's cheek after she plopped a berry into her mouth. They found a couple bushes not far from the stream that was teaming with fruit, and she spent a while filling her sac with them. In the distance she saw more fruit baring trees.

She looked over to Voldemort who was sitting against a tree with his eyes closed. "You know," she began and he opened his eyes a sliver to look at her, "we could last a while here in the forest if we wanted to. There's plenty of water. There's food, like fruit and meat. How big is this forest?" She scanned around as though this would answer her question, but all she saw was more and more trees that went on forever. She nodded. "Someone could build a house in here and I don't think anyone would ever know about it."

He got a look on his face that told her he knew what she was getting at. He chided her, "We can't stay here. What kind of fool do you take me for? No, we have to go back to my headquarters."

She raised her eyebrows at him dubiously. "Go back? We can't go back to the Riddle mansion, there's nothing left! And it would be crawling with Aurors."

He looked at her completely and the blue in his eyes stood out in the cold, gray light. "Of course we won't be returning to the mansion. My muggle father's home was merely a meeting place for new followers who wished to join us."

"You…made a  _new_  headquarters."

"Yes. I knew staying at the mansion would be too risky. And, as it turned out, I was right." He leaned back against the tree again and looked at her though his lashes. "I found somewhere new, somewhere bigger. The place suites my needs quite well. For now."

Harmony forgot that the whole time she had been on the run, apart from looking for her, Voldemort had been recruiting more followers and rebuilding his realm of power.

She twirled a berry in her fingers thoughtfully before she asked, "And how many more people have you recruited?"

He stared at her and a smile stretched across his lips. "You'll see," was all he said.

Much to his disappointment, Voldemort didn't yet have the strength to Apparate to this new headquarters. And they were stuck together walking through the forest, made to duck under low-hanging branches and climb over fallen trunks. The weather was overcast and although the dense tree tops sheltered them from most of the rainfall, their clothes soon became soaked and the trek unbearable. Harmony shivered at his side, unconsciously walking closer to him to retain body heat. But he was no fool and he slipped his hand into hers, bringing her closer for warmth. She glanced up at him thankfully.

Around midday, Harmony asked if they could stop to rest; not for herself—her nausea subsided hours ago—but for him. The pain on his face was undeniably clear, and by the way he tried pinching his shirt away from his body, she knew his burns were still bothering him.

"It's bad now," she said once she finally convinced him to take a break. "Just wait until it starts to itch, and then you'll really be in trouble."

"It is not so bad," he said firmly and when she raised her eyebrows at him in disbelief he added, "I have endured far worse pain."

Her smile fell; now  _that_  she  _did_  believe.

The rain started as a trickle but quickly crescendo into a heavy downpour. They sat with the cloak over their heads as Harmony worked on his burns. After the balm absorbed into his skin, he buttoned back up his shirt. He stopped her as she started to put away the burn balm canister.

"What do you think you are doing?" he asked. His tone made Harmony freeze. "You need to put some on your burns."

"Oh," she sighed and explained," I don't think I need as much. My burns aren't as bad as yours."

"I have told you; it's not so bad for me. I don't need your help."

She glowered. "When you escaped from the fire, your skin was ready to fall off your body. I don't know how you can stand it right now. You don't have to pretend to be strong around me."

His face soured at the word "pretend," and he leaned toward her under the cloak. By the earnestness in his voice she knew he was speaking straight from within.

"There is no  _pretend_. I have to be the way I am because I am a leader. People rightfully fear me because I know what I want and I know how to get what I want. A leader cannot feel fear and neither can they show it. My pain is irrelevant. This is why  _I_  am the Lord and the  _rest_  stand at the fatal end of my wand."

They stared at each other for a long moment; only the patter of the raindrops on the cloak filled the silence.

Then, "Sometimes pain isn't such a bad thing," she said, dropping her eyes to the black buttons on his shirt, "feeling the bad makes us remember the good." She shrugged, "It's only human."

"I don't care about being human," he said, "I just want to be stronger."

"I don't believe that."

He raised an eyebrow at her.

"Take last night's dream for example."

His face slacked and covered it with a hand.

Harmony nodded, her cheeks growing warm. "I saw it, too. Yes, it was horrible, but I think the dream was trying to tell you something. When you killed everyone, you showed no emotion, not one hint of feeling. I think that if you only just acknowledged how your actions affect peoples-"

"It was just a dream," he interrupted, his voice edged with annoyance. "It was a ridiculous dream that means nothing. Anything can happen in dreams; I do not know  _why_  I killed everyone—well…almost everyone. There was that child. Do you remember? There was only the child and I left alive, and then I woke."

Harmony nodded, letting him know that she remembered. She remembered the little girl with curly black hair, sweet little pink lips, and striking blue eyes-

 _Striking blue eyes_. She clutched at her heart when she realized who the child was. Voldemort frowned at her spontaneous show of emotion. He laid a hand on her shoulder and asked her what was wrong.

Harmony felt a horrible pain in her chest knowing it took her  _this long_  to realize they had dreamt of their own child. But how could that be? She wasn't sure if it was going to be a girl. Voldemort didn't even know she was pregnant!

She wrapped her arm around her stomach as though to keep herself from splitting in two.

"Are you going to be sick again?" he asked.

She just shook her head.  _How, how, how_ , she screamed in her mind. She shut her eyes tight, trying  _so_  hard to remember every detail of the child's face. His description of the dream mulled over in her mind. There was only the child and himself in the end. He killed everyone but himself and his child. Why? Why did he kill her in the dream when she was supposed to be vital to his plans of immortality? She was supposed to be his heir…

Her insides froze when the thought came to her.

The baby she now carried inside her, the same baby of Voldemort's flesh and blood, would also be his heir. His  _true_  heir. If she told him that she was pregnant, what would he think of her then? With a true heir, born without any imperfections, he would be able to raise the child and make it exactly the way he wanted his heir to be. With the baby, Voldemort would no longer need her. With that being the case, would he still…want her around?

Harmony unfolded from her fetal position and gazed into his concerned eyes. With a sickening feeling in her stomach, she realized that she was actually jealous of her unborn child.

Her dreams had an annoying way of coming true. Did that mean that after their child was born, Voldemort would get rid of her?

Would he really kill her?

She didn't want to believe it, but suddenly she couldn't bring herself to tell him that she was pregnant. He had said so himself: " _People rightfully fear me because I know what I want and I know how to get what I want._ " She wanted to push all the doubts that came rushing into her mind. She wanted to fold into his arms and believe that everything was going to be alright. But she was too clever for that.

"Are you feeling alright?" he asked, his fingers brushing her bangs out of her eyes.

She moved her face so his hand cupped her cheek. Her affection for him couldn't change. If she could just make him trust his emotions, if she could just get him to acknowledge that what they shared was something akin to love, she could make this right. She just _needed_  to.

Harmony smiled sadly. "I'll be alright."


	33. Chapter 33

The weather only worsened from there on. The heavens opened and poured buckets of icy rain onto the treetops where they fell heavily on their cloak hoods. Harmony was miserable, chilled to the bone. But when she looked up into Voldemort's face, he showed no signs of weakness. Either the frozen rain had numbed his burns, or he was just too stubborn and unwilling to let her see his discomfort.

An hour after they started the trek that day, Harmony finally decided that she completely and wholeheartedly had  _no_  idea where they were heading through the forest. But Voldemort walked, her hand clutched in his, and led them on. She wasn't sure if he knew exactly where they were heading, but his purposeful steps were more assuring than her absolute uncertainty. He didn't tell her more about this new headquarters and there were moments of silence while they walked side by side.

Again and over again, the images flashed in Harmony's mind of last night's dream. The little girl in particular appeared, and she was dumbstruck at the possibility that the same little girl was growing inside her at that very moment. Blue eyes,  _his_  eyes. What would _he_  think of the baby? Harmony had a difficult time imagining the Dark Lord Voldemort being fatherly to a child. While one moment he could be killing hundreds of Muggles and the next be picking up his little girl and hugging her into his arms.

He would be a proud father, that was certain. This child would be his heir, someone to pass on his legacy, making him immortal. Something he had always wanted.

One part of her mind was relieved that her baby would be needed, but the other half of her was worried. If Harmony's fears came true and he really was going to kill her after the child was born, he would undoubtedly teach he or she everything he knows from the strongest charms to the blackest of the Dark Arts. The child would become hungry for power, always on the run from the Ministry. The child would be restless, just like their father.

This was all the more reason for Harmony to stay alive after the child was born. Alive, she would be able to keep her child from becoming just another Wanted criminal on the Ministry's list. She needed to stay alive, even if that meant waiting for as long as she possible could to tell him.

Perhaps the dream was only an overactive recreation of what she once feared most in Lord Voldemort: his capability to kill anyone at will. Or perhaps it was the other way around; perhaps the dream was showing what  _Voldemort_  most feared. He had killed his mother and he had killed  _her_ , his heir. If he desired to rule the world, why kill everyone, leaving no one left to rule? Perhaps what he most feared was loneliness. Abandonment.

Harmony scrunched the rain water from her eyes and rubbed her temple with a drenched hand. A dull pain was starting to pulse through her head. She was thinking too much. So many questions. Some answers could only come with time.

While they walked on in silence, Harmony clutched his hand tighter and day dreamed of a perfect life with the man beside her. They could be living somewhere far away—on a beach maybe—just the three of them. Maybe…maybe more than just the three of them. Maybe they could have two children, or four. All thoughts of taking over the Wizarding world and killing Harry Potter would be completely gone from his mind. All he would worry about is his family. Like the Malfoy's. He would love them…if not that, then something close to it. They could live somewhere where no one could find them. They could live their lives in peace.  _That_  would be the perfect life for them.

But fantasies weren't going to get her anywhere. Harmony looked up again into his face. Beads of rain ran down his cheekbones and dripped off his black eyelashes. If she wanted the perfect life with him, she was going to have to fight for it and take every day one at a time.

The heavy rainfall caused more problems for them besides soaked cloaks; the streams that once trickled between the trees now overflowed and roared past them in small rivers. Voldemort was in too much of a hurry to wait for better conditions and Harmony repressed a groan when he said they were going to ford the streams. They couldn't possibly get any wetter, but the water was freezing.

He weaved his fingers in her hers to keep a better grip while they crossed the powerful stream together. Harmony gasped when they descended. The ice cold water pierced her body like the constant stabbing of tiny needles. They were thigh deep when they reached the center where the flow was at its strongest, making Harmony nearly lose her footing. If it weren't for his hand¸ her feet would've been forced right out from under her. The stabbing pain intensified until her legs went completely numb, and when they crossed, Harmony did everything she could not to collapse to the ground. Her joints locked as shivers agonized her body. Voldemort looked down at her when she failed to take another step away from the bank.

"Your lips are blue," he said, bringing a dripping hand up to touch her face.

Her eyes shuddered closed at the feel of his fingers like icicles against her skin. "I c-can't feel m-my legs. C-can't you f-feel your legs?"

"No," he said absentmindedly before he grasped her elbows and slowly let her down. "Your lips are  _blue_ ," he repeated with an edge of concern in his voice. His hands were suddenly under her dress, caressing her legs roughly to work back the feeling. Harmony's mind was too clouded to react. She could hardly even feel his touch; she could only feel a disconcerting tugging sensation where his hands worked over her.

She brought out her wand with stiff fingers and did a hot air charm over the both of them. His hands quickly left from beneath her dress to grab his own wand and do the same. Despite the cold, a corner of Harmony's lips quivered upward when she noticed his cheeks flushed a light pink. It was unlike him to react to physical comfort as opposed to using his wand. She felt pleased that he thought to touch her before considering using magic.

After several minutes of warming up, she felt less like an iceberg and said she was ready to continue on their way. But a cramp shot up the back of her left leg when she stood, and she cried out, grasping his shoulder for support. After a typical sigh of impatience, Voldemort picked her up despite her pleas to let her walk.

He was weak enough as he was, he didn't need her to be taken care of as well. But Harmony knew there was no use in trying to sway him and she let herself relax in his arms.

But Voldemort wasn't finished; she heard him grumbling to himself as they passed under trees and walked over logs.

"You know,  _my Lady_ ," he said, his fingers tightened on her legs and round her back, "my life was much simpler before you came."

Harmony grunted to let him know she was listening.

"I had my followers to order and recruit, I had the occasional mission to complete, and perhaps there were a couple Muggles to stir up for fun, but now?" His temples pulsed when he gritted his teeth and shook his head. After a sigh, he said, "Now the Riddle mansion is burned down, I am partially deformed, I can't feel my appendages, my emotions have become unmanageable, and without the ability to Apparate I've never walked this much in my life."

She bottled-up her laughter in case it would anger him and said innocently, "At least you're walking; the exercise is good for you. But you could hardly blame  _me_  for your mansion burning down  _or_  the weather."

"And what about my riotous emotions?"

"Er, right" she said. "Sorry about that."

He snorted, but she spotted a half-smile on his lips.

She tucked her head beneath his chin, resting against his chest. She was pleased that he just admitted that he felt  _something_  for her. She said delicately, "But it has not all been bad, has it?"

There was a long moment of silence. Then she heard a gentle laugh reverberate in his chest.

She smiled. "I got you to dance with me at the Underground tournament. I liked that."

"You mean after you  _dragged_  me onto the dance floor."

"You looked like you could've used the fun. You were being a wallflower."

"Being a wallflower has its perks; there's no risk of embarrassment, for one thing."

"Were you embarrassed to dance with me?"

"I was  _never_  much for dancing."

"Really? Not even as a boy?"

"Especially not then." Then he hesitated. "There were times at Hogwarts. At Professor Horace Slughorn's many parties, girls begged me to dance with them, and Slughorn threatened to expel me from the club if I didn't  _'live a little_ ,' so I didn't have much of a choice."

"I'm sure you made many young women very happy," she teased.

"I am scarred for life."

Harmony laughed and he cracked a smirk that had been working its way out as they spoke. She would have given a golden quill to see his face while all those hopeful girls surrounded him with pleas to dance. Though she couldn't blame them: he must have been very handsome as a young man.

She glanced up at him discreetly, her eyes running over his features. She wouldn't have thought it a while ago, but he was still very handsome. His hooded eyes, flashes of blue peeking through like shards of sapphire, thick black lashes, marbled cheekbones…

His eyes slid down to her as though he sensed her gaze on him. His mouth, usually hard set, eased at the corners and smiled slightly at her. Her cheeks grew warm as she looked away.

 _Kind of dark and brooding_ , she thought,  _but still very handsome indeed_.

After a short while, Voldemort set her down to walk on her own. Because of their shared body heat, they were as warm as they could be in that weather and continued on the journey close by each other's side. Voldemort didn't seem to be effected as much by the cold, it was like he was used to the feeling of his insides freezing over. But his burns still bothered him—though he didn't speak of it. Harmony could tell by the winces which he tried to hide by turning his head away.

Darkness quickly fell upon them. She could hardly believe they had been walking the forest for over a day now. How far away was this headquarters? A couple hours before sunset, Harmony already began looking for a thick tree to huddle under for the night. She took several steps before she realized that Voldemort wasn't standing beside her. She stopped and looked behind. He was standing motionless in his tracks, head bowed, fists clenched.

"What's wrong?" she asked, worry swirling in her stomach. She hoped the pain from his burns hadn't become too much for him.

He raised his head an inch, his face shadowed by his hood, and brought up a hand to her, palm up. Frowning, she took his hand, inspecting his face with concern. He looked at her for a moment and then closed his eyes. He took a deep breath and held it. He winced again, scrunching his eyes tight.

"What are you doing?"

At the sound of her voice, he released his breath in a rush and his face relaxed. Without opening his eyes, he said, "I am trying to Apparate us near to the headquarters. You and I are not staying another night out here, not if it kills me, which it just might."

"No!" she snapped, grasping his hand tightly. "You're not strong enough yet to Apparate. If you try too hard, you'll only injure yourself more. It's not worth-"

"Let. Me. Try," he said through gritted teeth.

His tone of voice made her reluctantly shut her mouth and she waited, staring at him closely while he took another breath and tried again. His pale face nearly went red with effort. She didn't want him to overexert himself, not while he was freshly wounded, but a part of her secretly wished he would succeed in Apparating them away from this cold and wet expanse. In these parts of the country, no one ever knew how long a rainy period could last.

She could feel it, the tug of the Apparition that wanted to take them in. But it was like a dimming flashlight, when smacked it grew brighter and stronger, but without enough energy it dimmed again. Harmony took a cold breath, the freezing air filling her lungs, and she tried to send some of her energy through her hand to his. Like a dry sponge, he soaked in her magic instantly and the feel of the Apparition grew stronger.

"We can do this together," she said quietly, almost inaudible through the sound of the rainfall. "Let me help you."

He groaned slightly and she knew he wanted to resist her aid. He wasn't used to accepting help. But for both of their sakes, he took the magic she coursed into him. They breathed in at the same moment, the pull of the Apparition intensifying, and in a rush the world changed at their feet. After hearing the satisfying  _snap_ , Harmony tore her eyes away from his face and looked around expecting to see another large mansion as the headquarters.

But they were still in the forest, surrounded by trees.

Harmony did her best to hide her disappointment and managed a smile at him. She stepped close and laid a hand on his chest.

"We'll try again when you're feeling stronger. I'll go find someplace to sleep for the night," she said, trying to sound lighthearted.

"No need," he said, looking around. His eyes settled on something over Harmony's shoulder.

She frowned and followed his gaze. Hardly visible between the trees, she saw a small structure, obviously not a mansion, more like a tent. Voldemort walked past her, a triumphant smile pulling at the corners of his lips and strode quickly over to the structure. The thing was nestled in between two large trees, covered by their thick branches, so it was dry but rugged and patched up.

As they quickly made their way over to it, Harmony had to ask—she didn't want to, but she needed to say it. "Are…is  _this_  the headquarters?"

Voldemort laughed, a strange sound coming from the Dark Lord, and he said nothing else. Harmony grimaced, knowing it was a stupid question. But then how did this tent get here?

Voldemort flicked out his wand and performed an Anti-Apparition charm around their small perimeter. He came back and lifted the tent flap. He peeked inside then stepped back and waved her to go in. "My Lady."

His eyes followed her as she stepped in. She sighed and smiled when a wall of warmth enveloped her. A full hearth was burning in one corner of the tent next to what appeared to be a kitchen with a table and stove. Separated by a wall of fabric was a living room with floor pillows and a heater and on the very end of the tent Harmony saw a bed peeking out from behind another flimsy wall. She should have known the tent had an Extension charm cast inside it. From the outside it looked like it could have hardly fit the both of them, but on the inside there was room enough to fit a small cottage, cozy and warm.

Voldemort entered the tent and closed the flap tightly behind him to keep out the cold. When he faced her, he immediately unhooked his soaked cloak and she followed suit. The sooner she shed her drenched clothes the sooner she could get warm. Voldemort draped their cloaks over a chair in the kitchen then he grabbed a thick blanket off the bed and moved over to the fire. Water had soaked through her cloak into her dress, so with numb fingers Harmony undid the clasps in the back and peeled it away from her damp body. Her underdress hung loosely off her shoulders; the hem was heavy with dirt and water. Voldemort had his back turned while she freed herself of her garments, and when he faced her again, interest jumped into his features at the sight of her sparsely covered body. Harmony folded her clothes and set them down on a trunk. She slipped off her dirty shoes and went over to the fire with a content sigh. She set her shoes down a safe distance from the flames to dry. All the while she moved around the tent, his captivated gaze followed her.

Harmony sat down on the ground in front of the hearth, holding her hands up to the flames. She glanced up at him with a grateful smile when he draped the thick blanket about her bare shoulders. She expected him to join her by the warmth of the fire, but instead she heard the rustling of fabric against skin behind her. She kept her eyes focused on the dancing flames until it glared brightly behind her eyelids. The sound went on for a moment, then silence. Harmony jumped when his cold fingers curled beneath the edge of the blanket at her neck. He tugged the blanket away from her left shoulder and sat down beside her, wrapping the other half of the blanket over his own shoulder. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the light of the flames flash against his pale chest. She felt his skin, cold and rippled with goosebumps, on her arm.

"So," she said slowly without looking over at him. His head turned slightly in her direction. "The headquarters?"

"This is part of it," he explained, pulling the blanket tighter over them. "The rest is outside the forest some hundred yards or so."

"So far?" she asked, knitting her brows in confusion. "Why is this tent so far away from the rest?"

There was a second of hesitation. "Because I wanted us to be away from the other people."

"Why?" she asked before she took a moment to think his answer over.

Another hesitation. "Because I wanted us to have our privacy."

She looked over at him and met his direct gaze some inches from her face. His eyes quivered slightly, as though he was restraining them from roving down her person. She became suddenly aware of the thin fabric that covered her body, so close to his bare torso. She swallowed and looked down at a seam on the blanket. Her cheeks grew hot as she mumbled an "Oh." She understood what he meant by "privacy," and she shuffled anxiously when she thought that what he really meant was he didn't want anyone interrupting them. The fact that he made an Anti-Apparition charm around the tent confirmed her thoughts.

There was a sudden flare of emotion that swelled in her chest. A sort of lust she was unfamiliar with, and she knew it was coming from him, not her. His horcrux inside her let her feel his emotions, like they were one person. The cautious side of her wanted to push these overpowering emotions away; after all, they weren't her own. But something gently tipped her over the edge and she let that cautious wall fall down, letting his feelings flood her, filling her very being. It wasn't like he took over her completely, but like she made enough room inside her for the both of them, sharing one body. It felt right to have his mind mingled within, like he belonged inside her.

Her thoughts muddled together into one heavy daze. Her eyes saw him lean closer to her, his head tilting to the side. His lips touched her ear and tickled as he spoke. Her brain couldn't comprehend every word that was said into an understandable sentence. She caught various words, something about getting warm. An arm curled beneath her knees, another snaked around her back. The ground left beneath her and she was in the air. She curled into him and the smell of sweat and rain wafted from his chest. The light dimmed as he carried her farther from the fire and they disappeared behind the fabric wall that concealed the bed.


	34. Chapter 34

Harmony woke as the last traces of a dream faded away. She was lying in the makeshift bed, a thick mattress covered in downy blankets. Voldemort was stirring beside her and she untangled herself from his legs. His weight left a space beside her and cold air rushed in between where his body once had been nestled against her. From beneath her mess of curls she watched him sit up and stretch his arms over his head. The muscles of his back tensed and rippled; there were scattered marks along his rib cage where she'd gripped him tight amid their passionate evening.

When he threw back the blanket and stood out of bed, Harmony observed him with intense admiration. It was such an exquisite body with broad shoulders and lean hips. His core muscles looked pumped after the lengthy workout, and he rubbed his abdomen, moaning.

"Are you sore, my Lord?" she said, trying to hide the delight from her voice.

He turned his head to look at her. "It's been too long."

"Only means you have to work the muscles harder."

"If I had worked any harder I would have thrown my back out."

Harmony covered her mouth with a pillow, unable to contain her laughter. He disappeared around the curtain hiding their little bedroom. After a moment, she heard the rustle of fabric against skin and knew he was getting dressed. She stretched her hands over her head and shivers ran up and down her naked body. Their tent was made of a thick fabric, so it did well to keep out the morning light. She closed her eyes and felt herself slowly drifting towards sleep. She didn't hear him until he was right on top of her. She felt the weight of his hands pressing into the bed beside her body. His head hung above her and hot air blew onto her face. He waited there and she felt him watching. After a moment, the bed bowed as he leaned down and kissed her fully on the lips.

Harmony returned the kiss, but didn't open her eyes. When their lips parted, he hung there a moment longer. There were footsteps and light poured in when the entrance to the tent was pushed aside. He started talking and one or two voices replied. She couldn't hear what Voldemort was saying, his voice was too muffled by the walls of the tent. She wondered if she should start getting up and getting dressed; if he was going somewhere, she wanted to go. She didn't want to be left there alone in the forest.

Harmony shrugged and settled deeper into the blankets. If he was leaving, he surely would have told her.

After a few minutes, there was a  _snap_  of Apparition which echoed through the forest. The drapery of the entrance was pushed aside as footsteps entered the tent. They stopped and then came closer to where she was lying. A full body weight lay down, filling the space next to her on the bed. After a pause, a hand went into her messy curls, stroking its softness. Harmony smiled.

But then her Serpentine charm prickled like needles stabbing the surface of her skin, and her smile vanished. She quickly rolled over and met her bed mate nose to nose.

Barty Crouch Jr.'s muddy brown eyes filled her vision.

Horror spread throughout her as Barty grinned.

"Hello," he said.

Harmony screamed and wrapped the blanket around herself, scooting as far away from him as she could. Barty burst out laughing, holding his side as he rolled off the bed. A wizard standing outside called out to him, asking if there was anything wrong. Barty quickly righted himself, resting his hands on the bed and shouted to the other wizard that they were fine and to stay outside until he said so. He turned his attention back on her, a grin pulling at the corners of his lips.

Her Serpentine charm was still prickling; she pulled the blankets tighter around her naked body and snarled at him, "What are you doing here?"

He held his hands up defensively. "Now, don't get your wand in a knot, my Lady." He got up and sat on the bed before continuing, "The Dark Lord sent Dergus and I to help you get comfortable. We've brought fire wood, food, a nice change of clothes-"

"Voldemort sent  _you_?"

His face twitched at the sound of his master's name, but he quirked a smile. "Well, I volunteered myself. When I heard you had arrived, I wanted to be one of the first to formally welcome you." He widened his smile.

She didn't like the way he looked at her—his dark eyes strayed far too long. She never forgot what he tried to do to her on the boat after they escaped from Menkar. She mentally prepared herself to hex him if need be.

"Haven't you learned your lesson from the last time we were alone together?" she asked.

"Oh, the  _Crucio_ , you mean?" He shrugged one shoulder. "Merely a love bite. I wouldn't mind getting cursed by you any day."

"Go any further with me and you'll get your wish," she warned him.

He wiggled his eyebrows at her, but didn't come closer.

She sniffed and said as lightly as she could, "Fine, well, I'll just get myself dressed then."

He blinked, still smiling that cocky, over-eager grin.

Harmony's face darkened and she glared at him. " _Alone_."

Amusement splashed across his features as he nodded and, with one last look over her, he turned and walked out of the tent. She sighed as her Serpentine charm eased. That was a close call. He had been lying  _right_  next to her with only a blanket concealing her body. She shivered. That was  _too_  close a call. She had succeeded in stopping Barty from doing anything with her ever since the day she'd arrived at the Riddle mansion. But he was a persistent little twit, and she hoped her luck never ran out.

Harmony reached over the edge of the bed to snatch up her clothes, always keeping an eye on the entrance to the tent. She changed quickly and poked her head outside the entrance, looking around. Barty was leaning against a tree wearing his usual Death Eater clothes and long dirty jacket. Dergus, a soft looking fellow with a bald head, stood next to several large packages and a crate of kindling. He saw Harmony first and stumbled into a deep bow before her.

 _At least he's respectful_ , Harmony thought as she glared menacingly at Barty, who sauntered over and winked at her.

"All dressed I see, what a shame," he chuckled.

Dergus frowned over at Barty, but quickly lowered his eyes again. He leaned down to pick up one of the packages. Bending to one knee, he presented the package to Harmony.

"Clothes," he said. "The Dark Lord said he wished you would change into these before meeting him over at the headquarters, my Lady."

"Thank you," she said, taking the package from his hands. Dergus bowed again before rising to his feet. "I'll change while you two unpack the rest of the things."

"As you wish, my Lady," Dergus said. Barty gave her a mock bow—more like a curtsy—before going over to the crate and stacking the wood.

Harmony went back inside and untied the package. A waterfall of green velvet fell through her fingers. It was a dress and it was more beautiful than the green one she had borrowed from Narcissa. This one had intricate embroidery at the hem and the neckline. Harmony rubbed her face gently against the soft fabric. It was undoubtedly expensive. She wanted to smile and accept the gift graciously, but there was a nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach. Voldemort wanted her to change into it before meeting him over at the headquarters. What he wanted was to show her off to all the Death Eaters. The green,  _Slytherin_ , dress was to show them all who their Lady was.

Harmony swallowed back a knot of disgust and guilt. She wanted to be happy. She had Voldemort back; she had her baby's father back. She should be happy. It was a very beautiful and generous gift after all.

She thought about last night, about what they had done together. She was so close— _she could feel it_ —to making him trust in his emotions. The affection was there; he cared for her, but she just  _needed_  him to realize that what he possibly felt for her can also be described as love. But how and when she was going to make him realize that without giving away the existence of her baby was going to be difficult.

She needed to keep him happy for now, and that included wearing the beautiful Slytherin dress.

Harmony undressed and—still keeping her eye on the entrance—slipped into the soft, slinky dress. It was short-sleeved with a low V-neck and the hem reached perfectly to the tops of her toes. There was a chill in the air, so she found her cloak, now dry, and threw it over her shoulders. When she was done, she went out and the two Death Eaters carried the food supplies into the tent.

"Beautiful," Barty whispered when he passed her.

Harmony looked away, a blush creeping into her cheeks.

When they were finished unpacking, Barty wrapped his arm around her waist. She almost pushed him away, but then Dergus came over and touched Barty's shoulder. She side-Apparated with them in a series of three quick snaps. They appeared somewhere on the edge of the forest. Ahead of them was a large opening leading to a grass field. Further on, the field ascended upward into a steep hill where at the top was a large tent. Harmony had a distinct feeling she had seen this hill before; then she remembered her dream a couple nights before. She climbed this same hill in her dream where on the other side was the world burning. She swallowed nervously as the three of them began to walk up the hill.

Barty and Dergus rushed ahead of her to open the tent doors and she stepped in. It was like a scene from a war film: there was a large table at the center of the tent covered in a map of not only the Wizarding world, but of the entire world. Little moving models stood in their designated spots on the map, representing each side. The walls were covered with newspaper clippings. At a glance, Harmony saw the famous headliner,  **Dark Lord Goes Loony** , with Voldemort's—who was really Barty—picture below. It was hard to imagine that she felt so much pain and agony in seeing that picture weeks ago, when all that time it had been the dreadful Barty Crouch Jr.

Somebody clearing their throat caught her attention. She spun away from the newspaper clipping and saw Voldemort and Mag standing at the other end of the tent. The Death Eater bowed to her with a, "My Lady." She nodded her head to him. It was just the three of them; Barty and Dergus left her there alone.

Voldemort looked her up and down, a pleased expression on his face.

"The dress is beautiful, thank you," she said to him.

"You look lovely, my Lady," Mag said. "My Lord has exquisite taste."

"It was my mother's," Voldemort said, stepping over to Harmony. "One of the few things saved from the fire."

Her eyes grew wide with hope. "Did you save any of the books from your library?"

Voldemort barked a laugh. "See Magnus? What did I tell you? She craves knowledge just as I do."

"You were right, my Lord."

"Of course I was right," Voldemort said briskly and then waved Mag away. "You may leave us now."

Mag bowed and left.

Voldemort turned around, walking over to the large map at the center of the tent. "There were several books saved, but not enough to satisfy you, of course."

"There are never enough books to satisfy me," she said.

When he turned back around, she saw he had a knowing smile. "Aye, we are alike in many ways, my dear. Knowledge and power, it's all the same." He beckoned her over.

She stood adjacent to him by the map. Waving a hand about the tent, she asked, "So…is  _this_  the new headquarters?"

"The main part, but not the most important."

She frowned, not understanding but waited for him to explain himself. He rested his hands on the edge of the table, looking down at the little moving models on the map.

"Believe me when I say that I had used my little bit of free time very well," he began. "Without the Ministry on my back, I had more access to the world. One example would be the Underground dueling tournament. If I had gone as myself, there would have been chaos. That was why posing as Marek the Death Eater was the best thing I could have ever done." He looked up at her. "And it is all thanks to you. Believe it or not, you have had a bigger hand in what's going on than anybody."

"Really?" Harmony snorted. "Because it hasn't felt that way."

"Think about it," he said. "If you had not giving me the idea to 'erase' my memories, then we wouldn't be here. We would be back inside Riddle mansion, dead and burned along with the rest of it. But most importantly…we wouldn't have an army."

Harmony's heart jumped up to her throat and she choked slightly. After a little cough, she asked slowly, "An…army?"

He nodded, a grin spreading on his face from ear to ear. She could sense the excitement inside him.

"I was blind before the Battle of Hogwarts. I wanted one thing and that was Harry Potter—while gathering more followers along the way, but I was still blind. You see, I thought that taking over Hogwarts would be the end of everything. What is more important to a Wizarding world than its magical education?"

Harmony thought it was a rhetorical question, but still she answered, "It's government. Without the Ministry of Magic, there would be chaos throughout the world, Hogwarts wouldn't even-"

"Exactly," Voldemort said, leaning over the map. The exhilaration burned like dry ice in his blue eyes. "Hogwarts is merely an arm of the Wizarding world. Why would I get rid of the arm, when I can go straight for the heart?"

She felt a cold grow inside her at the realization of what he was saying. "You want… _you want to take over the Ministry_?"

His large smile answered her question.

She almost laughed aloud. "That's impossible! The Ministry is impenetrable! There is no way you can take it by force."

"There is a way," he said and he stepped back from the map. "Let me show you." He walked over to the entrance to the tent, on the opposite side she had come in.

When she walked over to him hesitantly, he threw the tent doors open, revealing to Harmony everything that was waiting on the other side of the steep hill. Her jaw dropped and her breath caught in her throat.

At the bottom of the hill were tents. And more tents, and more tents, and more until they went on for as far as the eye could see. "Army" was an understatement. This was a  _city_.

Voldemort stood behind her, speaking into her ear.

"Nothing is impossible when you have enough people. And you want to know something? These people…they are here for us. These people believe in you  _and_  me. So let me make this absolutely clear to you, my dear." His breath was hot on her skin when he said, "Hogwarts was merely a test. Thanks to you, I left that battle alive. Thanks to you, we now have a second chance for  _complete_  and  _total_  power."

His fingers traced down her back, following the path where she sensed the Serpentine charm slithered over her skin.


	35. Chapter 35

Her feet wanted to move back and she felt as her shoulder blades pressed into his chest. But another part of her, the part that was irrevocably intertwined with her old master, wanted to run towards the hoard of witches and wizards like they were her long lost family. Voldemort's hand that was stroking her charm pressed harder into her back, as though he sensed her reluctance. He pushed her gently forward and Harmony felt no choice but to go on. She left the tent and stood at the very peak of the hill, looking out over the city of people. She felt Voldemort at her elbow and saw out of the corner of her eye as he lifted his wand to his throat.

" _Sonorus_ ," he muttered and when he opened his mouth again to speak, out came his voice as loud as thunder. "Witches and wizards…I have the highest pleasure to present to you… _your Lady!_ "

The sound that followed completely drowned out Voldemort's thunderous voice. Hundreds of people cheered at once and cast bursts of light into the air above their heads like fireworks. The ground shook beneath their feet like an earthquake. Chills crawled over Harmony's body.

When he said he had been recruiting while undercover, she hadn't expected  _this_. Not of this magnitude! This was nothing compared to when he set the attack on Hogwarts; all those months ago he had an army, strong in loyalty. Harmony remembered the night she watched from her bedroom window as the reasonably large group of followers left Riddle mansion to venture out to Hogwarts. But now?

Harmony shook her head in disbelief. She looked over at Voldemort and she could see the rapture gleaming in his eyes. She wanted to say to him, "What have you done?" But when she opened her mouth, out came, "What have I done?" in a whisper. She looked back at the city of people, cheering in jubilation, and she wondered:  _were all these people really here because of_ me _?_  Why was Voldemort successful in recruiting so many people now, of all times? The only difference between then and now was that now  _she_ was involved. It seemed like the only plausible explanation.

And suddenly Harmony felt an unexpected sense of purpose.

She looked over at Voldemort again and wondered if she was just absorbing his emotions. It was so difficult now to tell the difference between her feelings and his. Being around him was like being around an alteration of herself; he wasn't her, but their minds were the same.

Their eyes met and she felt a sudden jolt in her middle.

"Go on," he said, tilting his head towards the people.

Her brown eyes widened in questioning.

He beckoned towards them more insistently. "These people think of you as their Lady. They already know you are second in command; now is the time you must  _prove_  it to them."

"What do you mean?" her voice quivered slightly.

"Go down there," he ordered, "and present yourself to them. They need to see you for themselves."

"Please," she hissed between her teeth. "Maybe we should talk about this first-"

In one motion, he was at her elbow, lips against her ear, hand pressed into the small of her back. "There is plenty of time to talk later.  _Trust me_. We have much to discuss. Now go…mingle."

Harmony tilted her head to the side to look up into his eyes. She knew better than to disobey a command, particularly in front of everyone. So she swallowed back the knot tightening in her throat and turned to face the masses. A breeze lifted her hair and played with the hem of her green Slytherin dress, the dress that used to belong to Merope Riddle, descendant of Salazar Slytherin. When she began walking down the hill to greet them, the cheers reignited like a dry log thrown into a blazing fire. She heard Voldemort's steps some distance behind her and she felt relieved; he wasn't going to abandon her to handle them alone. They slowly approached her as well, interested but hesitant. Did they expect her to be a merciless tyrant like their master? She didn't blame them if they did, but she promised herself that she would do whatever she could to show these people that she was not a power-monger like Voldemort. She would show them that she was different, kinder, even if that was to their Dark Lord's dislike.

When she reached the bottom of the hill, the people spread out before her like an ocean, their heads moving up and around like waves in order to see their Lady clearer. Harmony's eyes scanned the hundreds of faces, almost hoping to see someone,  _just one person_  she recognized. There were people of all ages from the crotchety old wizards with long cotton white beards, to children, wide-eyed and curious about the witch before them. A small girl with curly dark hair unclasped her little hands from her mother's robes and stepped hesitantly closer to Harmony. Harmony looked over at the little girl and a smile instantaneously spread on her lips. She prepared to bend to a knee and greet the girl but the mother was quick to snatch her up into her arms, smiling apologetically at Harmony.

The silence had gone on for far too long. Harmony sniffed, raising her nose into the air as she took in the rustic smells that wafted over from the encampment. Wood fires, food, sweat, and damp grass. The people reeked of it, but despite the less-than-exquisite settings, the people all greeted her with inquisitive smiles. She admired them, but pitied them at the same time. How could they have so much faith in a tyrant and a teenage girl who had never cast a killing curse? It made Harmony feel over-important, and when she spoke all she wanted was their approval—and Voldemort's.

"My good people," she began; her voice cracked embarrassingly, so she swallowed and tried again. "My  _family_ , I'm sure most of you have travelled great distances to be here. And for that you have my undying gratitude."  _What next, oh god, what to say next?_ "And…if only Salazar Slytherin could see us now." There were cheers from the crowd, green sparks flying into the air. She nodded politely and held a hand up for silence. Suddenly, she felt that familiar thrill as Voldemort filled her with his emotions. His pride was giving her strength, and with a strong tone, she continued, "Never have I seen an army of this multitude. Before, there were followers, there have been believers. But now…" she opened her arms up brazenly to them as though to embrace the sea of people, "Now this changes everything. As your Dark Lord once told me, with enough people anything is possible." She bowed her head to them and cheers erupted twice as loud as before. When Harmony unfolded from her bow, she looked over her shoulder at Voldemort expectantly. His eyes were on her, taking in her every feature with a proudness Harmony had never seen before. He had on a pleased smile and nodded gently in agreement.

 _Good_ , she thought,  _he's happy. That's was all that mattered._   _Now what?_

Harmony looked back at the mass of people. The little girl with dark hair had squirmed from her mother's arms and dodged between legs, breaking free from the line and running right up to Harmony. Harmony bent down to look at the girl eye to eye. The little girl stopped a foot from her, her large eyes looking deep into Harmony's. The little girl stared at her as though reading whether or not to be afraid. Harmony smiled and like magic a grin appeared on the little girl's tiny rose petal lips, and she wrapped her skinny arms around Harmony's neck. Harmony enveloped her and picked her up from the ground. There was something about the dark-haired girl that sucked Harmony's attention in like a black hole. Maybe it was because she desperately wanted these people to see how kind she was compared to Voldemort…or maybe the girl's dark hair and large eyes reminded her of another little dark-haired girl: the one she had seen in her dreams.

Now that she was secretly pregnant, Harmony had a new fascination towards children. She had never been around many at home in the Muggle world since she was an only child. But she had baby-sitted her neighbor's two little boys occasionally when she was home from Hogwarts during the summer. Timothy and Emmett were rowdy like most boys their age; Harmony believed she had handled them as well as any babysitter could. But motherhood had to be something entirely different. Would she be a good mother?

The little girl loosened her arms from Harmony's neck and looked at her full on in the face. She bowed her little head, making her black curls bounce, and she said in a sweet voice, "My Lady."

Harmony's heart melted at how adorable she was, and she laughed, turning around to Voldemort to see if he had heard. But when her eyes locked onto him, her laugh faded from her lips and she frowned. He was looking at her in the strangest way, as though a plethora of thoughts had invaded his mind, filling his brain with provoking ideas. Curious, Harmony keyed in to his emotions and felt utter bewilderment. His blue eyes drifted down and stared at the little black-haired girl as though she was a strange specimen, and then he looked back at Harmony, his eyes far away.

"My Lord," Harmony said hesitantly.

He blinked and raised his eyebrows at her questioningly.

"Are you alright?" she asked, not too loud for others to hear, but loud enough to be heard over the sound of the crowd.

A corner of his lips quirked upward as though she had told an amusing joke, "Of course I am alright." He waved her on. "Go mingle. I am right here."

She scrutinized him for a moment longer then strolled towards the sea of people with the little girl in her arms. As though on cue, the crowd split, creating a clear path before her. She nodded and smiled to the people in the front row, whom all returned their gratitude by falling to a bended knee.

"My Lady" echoed around her as she walked down the path made for her by the followers. Some bowed their heads, some smiled or looked over at her with curiosity, and some brave souls who were bent to a knee reached out and touched the hem of her Slytherin dress. She kept her chin parallel to the ground, trying to display some confidence. All she hoped was that they didn't see how completely petrified she was.

Of course she couldn't walk all the way to the other end of the campsite; that would have taken her an hour. Instead, when they neared the city of tents, Voldemort spoke in her ear to go towards the large tent closest to them. His voice was slightly irritated. Perhaps he was a little put off by the way everyone was ignoring him completely; Harmony couldn't remember hearing one "My Lord" during their trek through the sea of people. Or perhaps it was the way people stared at him, more specifically, at his new burn that splashed magenta along his jawline and down his neck. He wore his usual black robes, but the collar hardly concealed the damage. Harmony wondered if he was trying to take her words to heart when she said she admired scars, but the rare blush that crept into his pale cheeks told her that he was unused to this kind of attention. As they walked over to one of the large tents, she saw him prop his cloak up closer around his neck.

People backed away from the entrance to the tent, allowing the Lord and Lady to enter. Inside was a smaller group of people that bowed deeply when they arrived. Harmony set down the little dark-haired girl who, after glancing apprehensively up at Voldemort, hid behind Harmony's dress.

Voldemort glanced down at the little girl briefly then looked up at the people and beckoned for a group of three women to come closer. The youngest woman looked slightly younger than Harmony and the oldest she guessed to be in her thirties. Each wore identical dark emerald green robes with silver thread weaved into their hair. When Voldemort acknowledged them, they bowed to Harmony and introduced themselves.

"They were hired especially for you," he said, clasping his hands behind his back. "You are going to be busy from now on, so you are going to need all the help you can get with your feminine needs and so on." He nodded his head sharply to the three women who moved off to Harmony's side silently.

A larger group of people stepped closer; she guessed there to be fifteen to twenty in all.

"And these," Voldemort said, waving a hand over the group as he walked over to them, "are our most loyal followers. They are going to be working personally with both you and me in preparation for when we make our move on the Wizarding world."

Harmony saw Mag among the group of loyal followers, along with others she both did and didn't recognize. She spotted a familiar head of mangy dark hair standing tall in the back. When Barty caught her eye she meant to quickly look away, but when Voldemort was distracted by speaking to Mag, he winked and blew her a kiss. She scowled and he bit his bottom lip to keep from laughing aloud. When Voldemort leaned away from Mag, Barty's head snapped away from Harmony's direction.

"Since numbers matter more than anything," Voldemort said to her over his shoulder, "I wasn't choosy when it came to recruiting more followers. Therefore, we have witches and wizards that range from the adept to absolute beginners."

"That is a bit risky, isn't it?" she asked.

"Indeed," he replied, "and since we want everyone to be prepared when we finally act, we have decided it would be beneficial to create some sort of location where followers can come to practice spells, perhaps even learn new ones to use in battle."

Harmony raised her eyebrows in disbelief, pointing a finger to the massive crowd outside the tent. "How are you going to prepare all of those people? There are hundreds."

He beckoned to the loyal followers before them. "That is what they are for." He nodded to Mag.

The Death Eater held up a roll of paper and tapped it with his wand. It unraveled itself and levitated between them. Similar to the map Harmony saw in the tent on the hill, this map had moving figures representing the people and location of tents of the new Headquarters. Glancing at the key in the corner, Harmony measured the length of the campsite to be a couple miles wide. With another flick of his wand, Mag conjured several larger tents to turn a bright red, highlighting their locations scattered across the map.

"We are here," Mag said, pointing to one of the bright red tents off to the far side of the map. "We have positions around the site built specifically for recreational purposes like dueling, practice, lessons-"

"-parties," someone in the group muttered aloud. Everyone looked back at Barty who was grinning into his coat collar.

Mag chuckled at this. "Yes, we also thought it would be good for morale to allow people to host get-togethers in the evenings."

"That is permitted," Voldemort replied. "Just as long as they do not interrupt practice."

"Of course my Lord," Mag said then nodded to Harmony as he waved to the group. "Each of us are splitting into smaller groups to be instructors placed at the various tents; helping witches and wizards with questions and such, but most importantly hosting lessons scheduled throughout the week."

"I see," she replied, studying the map.

"I will be busy most of the time bringing new followers into the headquarters and keeping things in order," Voldemort said, looking down at her beside him. "How would you like to join them in teaching the followers? Your presence would keep people in line, I believe."

Her eyes widened in surprise. "Teach? Teach lessons to them?" She looked out the entrance of the tent to the raucous and rowdy crowd on the other side.

"You have been my pupil for nearly a year now," Voldemort remarked with a hint of pride in his voice. Leaning closer to her, he said, "You are more than capable compared to the rest of these magicians."

She pursed her lips in thought. It couldn't be too difficult. Mag said a couple people from the group were going to each tent, so she wouldn't be alone. It reminded her of when she helped Harry Potter form Dumbledore's Army in their fifth year to prepare students to battle the man standing at her side.

Harmony swallowed back the familiar knot of guilt in her throat. She was in so deep. There was a tug on her dress and a comforting pressure against her leg. She looked down and met the little girl's large blue eyes.

Harmony asked the girl, "What do you think…"

"Aislin," came the reply like a tinkle of bells.

"What do you think, Aislin?" Harmony asked gently.

She smiled shyly and nodded.

Harmony looked up at Voldemort with a confident grin. "There you have it."

He was staring at her and Harmony sensed the same bewilderment he had felt before. But he quickly recovered, smiling tightly. "Good," he looked at their group of loyal followers. "Which of you volunteer to join your Lady here with lessons?"

A serious looking witch with long brown hair bowed to them, "I would be honored, my Lord and Lady."

Voldemort grunted, nodding; Harmony could tell his mind had already wandered elsewhere.

"And I," came the second reply.

"Fine," Voldemort replied, nodding again absentmindedly. "You can begin scheduling lessons tomorrow. The sooner the better." He took a couple steps away, his eyes flickering down at the little dark-haired girl clutched at Harmony's dress, and with a swirl of his cloak he was gone from the tent.

"Excellent," Mag barked. He clapped his hands together and the map snapped closed. He tucked the roll of paper under his arm and smiled at Harmony mischievously. "I look forward to teaching these chums how to really duel."

"You mean using the  _Cruciatus_  curse on them until they croak," a witch mocked, nudging Mag in the ribs as the group followed Voldemort out of the tent.

"I've got to get my fun somehow," Mag pouted, and Harmony listened as their laughter faded away into the sounds of the crowd outside.

The brown-haired witch who volunteered to help Harmony conduct lessons approached and bowed deeply. "I look forward to joining my Lady tomorrow. I would be glad to create the schedule; I trust you will know what to teach."

"Leave it to me," Harmony replied and dismissed the witch.

When the witch left, Harmony noticed Barty and her face fell instantaneously into a scowl. With a glance around she noticed she was alone with him except for Aislin and her three hand maidens.

He sauntered up to her and bowed deeply. "And  _I_  look forward to working with my Lady tomorrow."

"You?" Harmony groaned.

"I."

"Not  _you_."

"Yes,  _me_."

" _You_  are going to help me with lessons?"

"Among other things," he said, looking down at her between his dark bangs.

"Don't you have anything better to do than bother me?"

Barty glanced at the ground in an attempt to hide his smirk. He took a slow step towards her, making Harmony's muscles brace instinctually for protection. When he cast his black eyes back up to her, he whispered, "Well, like Mag said, I've got to get my fun somehow."

Harmony forced herself to stare him down despite the small whorl of anger that was curling in the pit of her stomach. When he had his laugh, Barty bowed dramatically and strutted out of the tent. Harmony blew out her breath, her heart beating against her ribcage. She looked down at Aislin, forcing herself to smile. She placed her hands around the girl and heaved her up into her arms.

"Do you agree, Aislin?" she asked the girl. "Do you think it'll be fun?"

Aislin scrunched her small button nose in disgust.

Harmony snorted, staring at the tent entrance where Barty disappeared. "I don't think so either."


	36. Chapter 36

Voldemort was gone when she left the tent, leaving her alone with the masses who greeted her when she stepped outside. She wasn't sure whether he wanted her to follow or not. Already people were going back to their business in camp; what else would Voldemort need her for? She recalled his foul mood in the tent, though he had seemed somewhat cheerful when she showed up that morning. For a moment she tried tuning herself in to what exactly he was feeling, but she was distracted, too many people about. Later, she would inquire him about it, but now…

Harmony turned her back on where he disappeared in the crowd and faced the immense expanse of tents and caravans. She began walking, looking around, forcing herself to connect with the people that expected so much of her. This place— _the new headquarters_  she supposed it should be called—impressed her. There were markets, stalls of food and supplies, large tents that housed families, children running about like they were on a playground.  _Children_. Voldemort obviously didn't recruit kids simply for manpower; he must have connected to many families and convinced them to join every member. It must be a new method of his as opposed to taking in only the strong, young, powerful witches and wizards. But she could understand his reasons to recruit families: children trained in the Darks Arts at a young age only made for more powerful witches and wizards as they grew older. It was exactly what she feared for her own child, it being raised in the shadows of criminals and Unforgivable curses. She made a mental note to mention the use of children to Voldemort later, once they were alone again.

Swept up in the current of people, she looked about her surroundings as though she were a newborn child. She eased into the crowd as though one with them, which she liked, though she did hear people whisper sharply as she approached, but that was all. People merely watched as she passed, curious at the girl that was supposed to usher in a new era for Voldemort and his followers. She knew now how Harry felt being ogled constantly, but she told herself to get used to that feeling of being watched.

Behind her, her hand maidens followed. Thinking of where in camp she would like to go first, she stopped to ask them if they knew about any tents set up to house books or the like. The eldest, whom Harmony learned was named Melantha, replied there was a tent set up for the things saved from Riddle mansion and there might be books there. Melantha, as well as the two younger girls, Kalista and Elodie, guided her to the tent where some men were stacking and unpacking boxes of random objects snatched before their former home went up in smoke. The three women were about to follow her into the tent when she turned back around to stop them and proposed they be dismissed for the rest of the day. They merely stood there confused.

"Come on," Harmony smiled, "you don't want to follow me around all day, do you?"

"On the contrary, my Lady," Melantha spoke, the one Harmony already associated to be the leader of her ladies, "you are our most important priority. The Dark Lord was very specific: we must be at your  _every whim_."

"Well, that's a bit much, isn't it?"

As though she hadn't heard, the eldest continued, "Whatever it is you need, be it help with dressing, doing shopping, or sending messages throughout camp, we are here for you. It is our job."

Harmony bit her bottom lip in thought as she regarded the younger girls that waited expectantly for her to give commands. "Okay," she barked, "first thing's first: I am not Lord Voldemort."

Kalista and Elodie exchanged glances at Harmony's informal use of their master's name, but Melantha narrowed her eyes at Harmony. "A very…strange first request, my Lady, if you don't mind me saying."

"It's not a request. It's the truth and I want all of you to realize that. Don't treat me like you do him. There's no need for you to fear me. I want trust."

"M…my Lady," the eldest sputtered. "My Lady, of course. Is there…anything else?"

"Yes," she replied. "Actually there is some shopping I need done. I literally have nothing but the clothes on my back. I'm not sure how long we'll be here, but if you could perhaps get me things I'll need otherwise, like more clothes: night garments, socks, cloaks, and such."

"Of course, my Lady." Melantha ordered the other two to go throughout camp to pick up various things. They told Harmony she didn't have to pay a cent for anything, which she already half-expected, but she was thankful all the same; she had little to no money left in her Underground tournament winnings since most of it had been spent on Polyjuice potion.

Harmony left them to go inside the tent. There were artifacts everywhere. It was surprising how much had managed to be saved. Tapestries were rolled up, leaning against stacks and stacks of paintings. Some silver and gold candle stick holders rest beneath heaps of old parchment next to ancient looking boxes that held unknowable treasures. And there in the corner were mounds of books resting next to an empty bookshelf, waiting to be sorted into their proper places. She could tell the shelf was barrowed off from somewhere; it was plain and dull in its decoration, a kind of thing that wouldn't be allowed in the extravagant Riddle mansion. She immediately set to work, dropping down within the piles and glancing at their titles before placing them on the shelf. She found plenty of good material for her to use in the lessons she had to conduct to the followers tomorrow. There were typical spell books and incantations she was familiar with, but there were also Dark Arts books amongst the piles, feeling like cold dead stones in her hands. She didn't glance much at those. It wasn't long before she decided to set aside a pile of her own to bring back to her tent.

With every book she set aside, Voldemort's cold voice echoed in her mind, "Yes, I was told you were a bookworm."  _When did he say that?_  It was so long ago, when he first showed her his massive library at Riddle mansion. He had mocked her and she was irritated by it. Now she smiled at the memory. Yes, she was a bookworm. But so was he.

"Hey!" a man's gruff voice called out behind her.

Harmony spun around. She thought she had been alone in the tent. Alas, she looked around and saw no one. Just she, the books, the trunks, the tapestries, the paintings…Her eyes narrowed onto the paintings.

"Oi! Curly!" the man called out to her again.

Harmony dropped her book of spells and went over to the stack. The painting on top was a nighttime scene with a knight in black armor in the forefront and a brothel in the background. With a rather curvy and skimpy woman attached to his arm, the knight staggered from side to side of the scene as though drunk. When Harmony appeared in his line of vision, he roared in approval, "There she is! Thought she was deaf, this one. What? Haven't you ever seen a painting talk?"

"What do you want?" she asked, not kindly.

A wineskin appeared in his black gauntlet hand and he took a long draft. Only when his companion snatched the drink away to get her own fill did the black knight speak again. He jammed a thumb over his shoulder, as though pointing to the brothel behind him. "There's a big burly broad that wishes to speak with thee."

Harmony's eyebrows knit together. She bent on her knees to peer closer into the painting. "In there?" she asked hesitantly.

The knight laughed riotously, his cheeks rosy red. "Try again, Curly! Look  _below_."

Then she understood. She picked up the painting of the knight and set it aside. She gazed down onto the new painting on top, and her eyes lit up with unexpected joy. "Claudia!"

The portrait of the full-figured witch in purple robes was glaring up at Harmony with hands placed firmly on her wide hips. The ferocity smoldering in the witch's eyes could have melted away the globs of paint clinging to the canvas.

"Never," Claudia spat, "would I  _ever_  share a painting with that…that mongrel. Ever!"

"I've never been too fond of you either, plum princess," the black knight muttered from his brothel across the tent.

"I heard that!" Claudia shouted back. "I heard. I—what did he say? What did he call me?" she questioned, turning on Harmony.

"Never you mind," Harmony replied, still smiling at the woman. It felt as though she was reunited with an old friend. The last she had seen the witch in the painting was the night she left Riddle mansion to go to Hogwarts. "Claudia. It's been so long. I almost thought you burned up in the mansion."

"Almost," the witch said, lowering her shoulders like a wolf lowering its hackles. "Anyway, how have you been? Keeping out of trouble I hope. Though I doubt it somehow. You never did as I told you all those months ago. Tell me what's been going on with you. Merlin! I have never been so out of the loop. Ever since the headquarters moved here, we've been stuck in this drafty old shelter. Last bit of news I heard was the battle at Hogwarts hadn't gone exactly as Master would've liked, and when he did return to the mansion briefly, he came back without you."

Harmony asked the witch slyly, "Were you worried about me, Claudia?"

The witch stuck her nose in the air. "Master commanded that I look out for you. I was merely keeping to my job description."

"Well, I've missed you, too. After all, you did save my life once or twice."

Claudia's lips twitched in what could have been a smile. "Tis true. You would have been lost forever in the bowels of the mansion in a perpetual daydream after what you saw in that room."

Harmony hid her grimace and slowly bent over to pick back up a spell book.

Claudia's sharp eyes narrowed up at Harmony from her canvas. "By the way…"

"Oh gargoyles," Harmony said quickly. "Look at  _all_  these books. I hate seeing them all scattered about like this. I think I'm going to just-"

When Harmony left Claudia's line of vision to retreat into the safety of the books, the purple-robed witch shouted out, "No-no-no-no, get back here! I just remembered we had a certain conversation last we saw each other, regarding what you saw in that future room of yours. Weren't you preg-?"

"I don't know what I saw," Harmony said in a rush, "and neither did you. That woman could have been anybody."

"You know she was you. I can see the fear in your eyes."

"I'm not afraid of my future."

"You are. Everybody is in some way. But I also hope you remembered what I told you about the future: it can always change. That room merely showed you what your future would be if you stayed on the path you were taking. And?"

"And what?"

"Have you changed your path?"

Harmony thought about the pregnant woman she saw in the room that was supposed to reveal a moment in her future. She thought about Narcissa, revealing that she was in fact going to have a baby. She thought about Claudia and whether she could trust her with the truth. Harmony hugged the book to her chest and shrugged timidly.

"Oh, Merlin's beard," Claudia hissed as she gazed up at Harmony's sad but coy smile. "So it's true…Can I say it?"

Harmony frowned down at the witch. "Say what?"

"I think this would be an opportune moment to say this."

"Say  _what_?"

"I'll just go ahead and say it then."

"Okay."

"I told you so."

Harmony's shoulders sagged as she shook her head.

The black knight's voice carried over from his painting on the other side of the tent, "What? Curly is really  _what_?"

Harmony jumped when Claudia suddenly screeched, "It's none of your bloody business, mongrel!"

The women exchanged respected looks.

"So I take it you haven't told my master yet."

"How can you tell?"

"Oh, I figured you to be the kind to keep something like this until the very last minute."

Harmony shrugged in reply.

"So why haven't you told him?"

"Because…" she began to say, but looked over her shoulder at the black knight's painting and inched closer to Claudia to whisper, "Because I'm afraid that if he has a better replacement for his heir then he'll get rid of me. What use to his plans would I be then?"

"And by 'get rid of' you mean 'kill'?"

"Well," Harmony said, "yes."

Claudia was silent a moment, her lips thinning as she pressed them together in thought. "That does sound like something the Dark Lord would do," she began, but then added, "a year ago."

"What? What do you mean?"

"I mean people change. When Master eventually returned after the battle at Hogwarts, I noticed something different about him. Don't ask me to explain how, but he was just unlike himself. Sometimes I'd walk into a painting and he'd be there in a room, just sitting, staring at nothing. And I always wondered at what he was thinking about. You're right, his plans are important to him and I'm sure at one time they meant everything, but now? Now that you're involved, I'm not so sure."

"You know I've never wanted this," Harmony said as she placed a hand over her arm where she felt the Serpentine charm slithering. "I never asked for any of this to be brought on me. I don't want the same things he does. I don't want to be a part of his plans."

"Then for heaven's sake, girl!" Claudia exclaimed. "Why are you still here?"

Harmony thought for a long moment.  _Why, indeed?_  "Because…because that's what you do for the people you care about. No matter how hard things get or how horrible the things they do, the ones you care for are all you have. I need to stay with him. Not just because he wants me to, but because I know it's what he needs. Look, I can see his dreams from time to time. Oh Claudia, they're horrible. There is so much death and dying on his behalf, it's like deep down he believes he's meant to be alone for the rest of his life. It's like his hunger for power is trying to…compensate for something. I don't know, but the way I catch him looking at me sometimes…Claudia, I know I'm close to making some kind of break through."

The look in Claudia's eyes was heavy with a deep sadness and pity Harmony wasn't used to seeing in the strict witch. Claudia sighed heavily, shaking her head. "You know what I'm going to tell you, don't you?"

Harmony dropped her head, looking down at her hands.

"You have to tell him."

Harmony shut her eyes tightly, shaking her head.

"Don't be daft! Have a little trust, girl!" Claudia chided. "Besides, the longer you wait the harder it will be. Your appearance will change soon enough; he will see your stomach grow and then you will have some serious explaining to do."

"I will tell him," Harmony said defensively, but when Claudia rose a critical eyebrow up at her, she added, "eventually. I just want to be sure he'll want both of us and not just the better replacement."

Claudia pinched the bridge of her nose between her eyes. "You know, for being the brightest witch of your age, you really are the most stubborn as they come."

Harmony smiled down at the witch sheepishly, though glad the matter had been settled.

She moved Claudia's portrait upright onto one of trunks so she could watch while Harmony finished moving the books to the shelves. Grabbing a couple blank pieces of parchment, she jotted down spells to teach in her lessons the next day. Her other partner in teaching volunteered to create the schedule. She wasn't sure what kind of help Barty was going to be. She was afraid he was only going to make an embarrassment out of her in front of everyone.

Not having eaten that day, Harmony found Melantha and asked where she could get something to eat. The eldest handmaiden escorted her to the market where they found a large food court filled with booths, tables, and feasting people. At one of the food stalls, Harmony ordered a shepherd's pie with pumpkin juice. Kalista and Elodie returned from shopping, carrying parcels of clothes, lavender soap, and shampoo. In thanks, Harmony offered them to order something to eat as well. Melantha declined, but the younger girls gleefully ordered a treacle tart with golden syrup. Most of the tables were full but seats were quickly offered to them, which they thankfully took. While they ate, people approached them to offer her gifts and food as though word of her lack of personal belongings had spread. Harmony thought of all these people that most likely left their own homes to be there and how they themselves had few belongings, so she declined their gifs as politely as she could. Except for one: a handmade silver-wire bracelet offered to her by a girl some twelve years old. The material wasn't extravagant but the knotting was intricate and it slipped onto Harmony's wrist with perfection.

The air smelled delicious with food: sweet, salty, tangy, and everything in between. People talked and laughed in groups. So different from the atmosphere Harmony remembered at Riddle mansion, which was usually heavy with silence and dust and cobwebs. After they ate, her ladies gave a tour of all the nearby activities. There were five or six recreational tents used for anything, one of which would house Harmony's lessons the next day. But what took up most space were the homes. Tents and caravans of every size were sardined together, but despite the dense crowd, everyone seemed to be getting along. People gathered around friendly fires, chatting, reading, eating, and even playing music. Men and women worked to keep the new headquarters organized. More tents were always being erected and food was always being carried in by new followers. Harmony could tell the large new operation was still in its charitable stage. Right now, all they had was what the followers could supply from their own belongings. But she knew that would change; Voldemort would eventually decide to let them pillage other towns to keep their growing population provided for.

While all the able-bodied individuals did the heavy work, Harmony often found the younger generations hanging out in the recreational tents, playing games or practicing duels. For a while, she sat on the benches set up along the walls and watched them cast spells back and forth. They all looked to be her age and she thought about joining them, maybe showing them a thing or two. It had been awhile since she had spent time with people her own age. The last she could think of was with Draco Malfoy and, well…spending time with  _him_  hadn't been really worth much. She decided not to join the others; once they noticed her presence, they ogled her until she began to feel awkward and left.

Within a couple hours Harmony was already tired of socializing and craved the comfort and isolation of her and Voldemort's tent deep in the forest. But before she decided to take the long trek back, she stopped by a medium sized tent that contained a large group of children; among them she recognized Aislin. The girl spotted Harmony peering into their little daycare and a smile spread on her pink lips. The witches in charge tried to stop the little girl from rushing over, but Harmony assured them it was alright. Though once Aislin came to her, it was as though it gave all the other children permission to stop what they were doing to crowd Harmony, overwhelming her with wide eyes and questions.

"Can I see your charm?"

"What's Master like?"

"Are you his wife? That's what my mum calls you."

"Do magic! Do magic!"

"Can I see your wand?"

"I heard you used to go to Hogwarts-"

"I wish  _I_  could go."

The last one who spoke caught her attention. It was a little blond-haired boy with freckles. She bent down to a knee in front of the child and asked him over the voices of the other children, "What do you mean you wish you could go? Aren't you?"

The boy shrugged his skinny shoulders. "Mum and Dad say I'll be going to school here, like all the other kids."

" _Here_?" Harmony asked incredulously, "You mean  _here_ , as in  _this_  campsite?"

The boy smiled, showing his gapping set of baby teeth. "Of course, silly, where else would we go?"

 _Oh my god_ , Harmony hissed in her mind. She couldn't imagine a life without Hogwarts. These poor children depraved of their chance at a proper education: she refused to hear it. It had to be a part of Voldemort's plan to raise the children as proper Death Eaters: with a controlled educational system. Seeing all the smiling children, giggling and playing, and then thinking of them growing up to be dark mercenaries; the thought made her shiver. She forced a smile at the little boy and ruffled his blond hair. "Well, we'll see about that."

His eyes lit up. "You mean I can go to Hogwarts!"

"I said we'll see–" but before she finished, he jumped and wrapped his small arms around her neck, shrieking with joy. She felt another child leap onto her back, holding on to her shoulders, and at once, little hands wrapped around her in playful hugs. Her forced smile eased into a real one as she found herself laughing with the others.

"My Lord!" One of the school witches exclaimed. Harmony looked over at the woman just in time to see her drop into a low bow. Her head spun around to the entrance of the tent where, sure enough, Voldemort stood like a tall, dark omen amongst the vibrant children. His hard blue eyes were narrowed on Harmony, not accusingly, but as though unsure how to comprehend what he was seeing. One by one the children dropped off her shoulders and stepped away from her dress.

He blinked and the emotion in his eyes faded. He said to her simply, "Time to go."

She nodded and stepped around the children to go to him. As they were leaving, one of the children could be heard saying clearly, "What happened to his skin?"

Voldemort growled, groping at the collar of his cloak to conceal the vicious burns that ravaged one side of his jaw, creeping down beneath his clothes. Harmony watched him out of the corner of her eye. Was he still in a bad mood? She placed a delicate hand on his arm, but he just turned his face away from her.  _Yep_ , she huffed in her mind as she dropped her hand,  _still in a bad mood_. She wondered what had turned it on since this morning.

People bowed as they passed, followed by scattered voices saying "Lord and Lady," but Voldemort ignored them as he usually did, always striding past as though on a mission of more importance. Harmony smiled at everyone politely, trying desperately to keep up with Voldemort's long-legged pace. In an attempt to cheer him up, Harmony told him about her day: taking a tour of the campsite, sorting through the saved spell books, greeting everyone who approached her, even her delicious meal at the market. "People showered me with gifts: food, money, jewelry, but I declined most of them."

"Good," Voldemort grunted in reply. "Modesty is an admired trait in a leader."

"So," she hinted meekly, "they like me."

"Indeed."

"Aren't you happy?"

"I am relieved."

"I thought that was what you wanted, for them to see me as your equal."

"I did." He froze and turned to her. "But keep in mind that seeing you as my equal and liking you are two completely different things. These people are not your friends. They are your followers. You command them. Punish them if need be. The way you let those children embrace you like a parent, it…it's…Since when do you like children?"

"Since recently," she muttered.

But he didn't catch her meaning and went on. "Not only will you be a leader someday in the  _far_  future, but you will be their mentor. Now, have you ever been in a  _personal_  relationship with one of your  _mentors_?"

She knew it was supposed to be a rhetorical question. He was trying to make a point. But she couldn't help herself. "As a matter of fact…"

He cast his cold eyes on her.

She smirked at him, and after a moment he straightened himself, adjusting the front of his robes. He glanced around at the crowd, not meeting her eyes.

"Besides me."

Harmony hid her smile as she shook her head.

As they ascended the hill that separated the camp from the forest, he explained why he had come to find her:

"A welcome dinner for us has been organized by our most loyal followers. We'll be meeting them at the main tent in a few hours. You and I have been traveling in a forest for the past couple days; both of us need a wash and change of clothes before we go to the dinner."

Harmony nodded submissively as he guided her back to their tent. When they arrived, she had expected him to pull out a large tub that had somehow gone overlooked. Instead, he found a sac and stuffed it with a change of clothes and soap. After Harmony decided to follow suit with her new clothes and lavender soap, he threw the sac over his shoulder and left the tent.

"Where are we going?" Harmony asked after a couple minutes of walking through the darkening forest. The sun was setting and cast long shadows through the trees.

"Somewhere to bathe, of course."

She guessed a river or stream nearby. But she was wrong. He took her closer and closer to the mountainside that hugged the valley of the campsite. Before long, she began to hear a constant rush and the air became damp with cool moisture. They made a break through the trees and there, in a large nook of the mountainside, was a waterfall cascading into a large pool of crystal blue waters. It was beautiful with the sky above a pinkish-purple hue from the sunset and the falling water glittering in the rising moon.

Harmony watched Voldemort as he rid himself of his shoes and socks, setting them orderly on the shore. Yes, she liked this place. It was out-of-the-way, secluded; somewhere a person could truly be alone. She took out her lavender soap, setting it aside, and started to undress herself. When the back clasps of the dress— _Merope Riddle's dress_ —were undone, the fabric slid off her body like liquid to the ground. Wearing only her thin cotton underdress, Harmony picked up the green gown and rolled it into a ball so it didn't catch too much of the moisture from the waterfall that had coated her skin in seconds.

She picked up her soap and straightened, looking for Voldemort. He was in the process of unbuttoning his shirt, one of many layers he usually wore. His eyes gazed around their scenery casually as the opening of his shirt widened with each button undone. She wasn't sure why these actions always attracted her undivided attention. Whenever he dressed, changed, undressed her eyes would watch his every moment with fascination. It was the way he did it: shedding his many layers of clothing, she couldn't help but think as she watched that she was seeing not Lord Voldemort but an ordinary man with needs and all-too-human necessities.

He fed the shirt off his shoulders one at a time then whipped it to the damp ground. Impossibly pale skin covered his arms down to his stomach which flexed as he moved. A couple inches below his belly button, his belt cinched up black trousers around his lean hips. Her eyes froze their journey down his person and flicked upward to meet his face and she realized his gaze was hard on her.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" he asked. His tone was almost taunting, as though he held an advantage over her for catching her in the act of ogling him.

She blinked away any last traces of the spell she had put herself under and smiled at him sheepishly. Holding her lavender soap to her chest, she stepped into the pool and goosebumps rose up on her body. The water was chilly, especially because the weather had been cold lately, but it was a good kind of chilly—the kind that pierced every pore and made the nerve endings come alive. She stepped on small pebbles at first, but the closer she came to the waterfall, the more the pebbles turned to sand which pleasantly squished up between her toes. Withholding a gasp when the water came up to her stomach, she watched as a shadow rippled beside her beneath the water. When Voldemort came up from the surface, a pale hand immediately went to slick back his black hair. Pearls of water rolled off his forehead, over his lips, down his chest. The sight made Harmony feel less than graceful with her arms clutched around her chest, shivering from the cold.

"Go down," he said, placing a hand on her shoulder. "You'll get used to the cold more quickly."

Harmony held her breath and let her legs give out from under her as she dunked into the water completely. When she was immersed, needle pricks pierced her every pore; it hurt at first, but time soon eased the pain until all that was left was her heart pounding in her ears. Voldemort went down with her, and when she was done adjusting he pulled her hand through the water and they swam over to the falls. Beneath it, the cascade pounded her back like a deep tissue massage, and when they came up they were on the other side hidden behind the crystal curtain of the waterfall. There were nooks in the soaked rock wall for Harmony to set down her cleaning things. She started on the soap. With her back to Voldemort, she drenched her hands in suds and used her fingers to scrub at her skin. The lavender smell wafted up from her body and she smiled at its pleasant scent. The thin fabric of her cotton underdress plastered to her like an extra layer of skin; it had been awhile since it was washed, so she merely scrubbed her hands over the fabric. Hopefully once it dried, it would still smell like lavender. Behind her, Voldemort splashed around, dropping into the water to get rid of the soap suds. When she was done scrubbing her body, she reapplied the lavender soap to her hands and brought it up to her hair.

The roar of the waterfall was loud enough that Harmony didn't hear Voldemort move towards her until she heard his breath in her ear. He inhaled deeply through the nose, taking in her new scent. His fingertips pressed into her hips and he brought her flush against him. Her breathing came quicker, which he surely must have noticed. With his head hanging languidly in the crook of her neck, he brought up a hand and slipped it in the opening of her underdress. He rested the hand against her heart where he felt it fluttering like a trapped bird against his fingertips.

"Am I frightening you?" he purred as his lips brushed the base of her neck.

She opened her mouth to reply, but only shallow gasps came out. Giving up, she just shook her head. As if drawn to its master, her Serpentine charm slithered almost seductively up her arm and over her shoulder to where Voldemort's warm lips were. She had always considered the Serpentine charm to have a mind of its own, but now the idea occurred to her the Voldemort's mind and the snake's mind were one and the same. She thought about the charm constantly roving over her, feeling her, caressing her, familiar with every inch of her body. And she suspected Voldemort was more familiar with her contours than she was.

He moved his head so he could see the side of her face, and he brought a hand up to tilt her chin in his direction.

Harmony caught a glance of the severe burns on his arm getting close to her—that brutal blemish—and she winced, looking away.

Seeing this, he immediately froze. And all the sudden his touch was gone and two feet was already between them.

He growled over the roar of the waterfall, "Am I really that grotesque to look at?"

Harmony spun around with a reply fast on her lips. "No, of course not! It's just…they look painful."

He snatched her hand that had gone up to cover her breasts, which could be seen through the thinness of her wet underdress. He placed it gingerly against the burned part of his chest and held it there.

"Go ahead,  _feel_ ," he commanded then added tauntingly, "You didn't mind touching me so much last night."

She blushed as she hazily remembered their feverish passion from the night before.

He dropped her hand, but she kept it on the burns, caressing the uneven texture. Muscles moved and tensed beneath her fingertips.

"Well?" he spat.

"Well what?" she murmured in reply.

"What are you thinking about, woman? I can't read your mind."

She wondered a moment. "I'm trying to think of what was so important to you that you had to run into a burning building with little to no chance of escape."

"Family heir loom," he replied. "Irreplaceable."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"Why?"

"Weren't you unsuccessful in retrieving it? I don't remember seeing you come out of the burning mansion with anything."

"Oh," he chuckled. "I got it, alright."

"What?" Harmony cast her eyes up at him curiously. "What was it?"

He was silent for a moment, just watching her. "You'll find out soon enough."

"Or now," she argued.

He shook his head. "Not now. Not ready."

He didn't clarify whether it was she or he who wasn't ready, but he spoke no further about it. Whatever the object was, the idea of it obviously distracted Voldemort's mind; he stared off into nothing while he finished cleaning himself and refused to meet Harmony's eyes when she silently demanded it.

 _So_ , she thought to herself as she finished washing the rest of her hair,  _I'm not the only one still keeping secrets._


	37. Chapter 37

Harmony hopped on one foot as she slipped on her shoes. She ran to catch up to Voldemort as he strode through the forest away from the waterfall. Her hair was still damp and stuck to her face. He had been quick to dress after they finished bathing, hardly giving her time to use a hot air charm to dry herself. His new shirt had a high-collar, doing its job to hide most of the burns. His black cloak billowed away from his body as he walked quickly between the trees. Its trim brushed the tips of her shoes as she followed close behind.

She thought about their conversation beneath the waterfall. What exactly was this heirloom? But most importantly, why didn't he want to show her? She hadn't seen him come out of Riddle mansion with anything. Either it was small enough to fit in his pocket, or it wasn't an object at all. Maybe it was some kind of information.

Harmony stared at the back of Voldemort's head. His black hair was slicked back flat against his scalp. The scent of dry soap on his skin touched her nose; it was musky, like some kind of exotic spice.

They reached the clearing in the trees and she could see the large tent on top of the hill. It glowed with a soft yellow light. Torches decorated both sides of the entrance, welcoming them in.

"How long is this going to take?" she asked as they began to climb the hill.

"Why? Did you have plans after dinner?"

"No," she said slowly. "Not unless you had plans for  _us_."

"Would you like there to be?" When he looked over at her, his eyes were hooded with lust.

She looked away. "Whatever pleases you, my Lord."

He hummed with longing. "Yes, it would please me very well." He stopped short of the entrance and faced her. His long fingers came up and brushed aside a wet strand of hair from her face. "We will have dinner, like proper hosts, followed by a simple discussion of our plans. But then…" his fingers cupped her chin, holding her face firmly, "our evening is free." He released her and turned to go inside the tent.

The world map was gone, as well as all the newspaper clippings. The walls were now bare, save one tapestry above a serving table that was covered with steaming food. Occupying the center of the room was a long dining table, similar to the one she saw in Riddle mansion. A group of followers were gathered around the table, chatting softly. When they walked in, there was a hush and everyone bowed. Harmony recognized several followers, including Mag and Barty.

Voldemort took his spot at the head of the table. Barty was quick to take her hand and guide her to the seat at the opposite end. Voldemort watched this thoughtfully, but looked away. Harmony withheld her contempt at the feel of Barty's clammy skin on hers. Once she was seated, he took the spot directly to Voldemort's left. The rest of the Death Eaters followed suit, filling the remaining seats at the table.

With a wave of a hand, Voldemort summoned the servants. Silently, they began filling plates with heaps of food, starting with their Lord and Lady. Harmony swallowed when she gazed at all of the delicious choices: roast beef, shepherd's pie, steak and kidney pudding, boiled potatoes with butter and gravy, roasted turkey. A server girl poured red wine into her goblet. When Harmony took a sip, her mouth set on fire as the alcohol burned its way down her throat. She gasped, clutching her chest, and those sitting around her laughed. Voldemort lifted his goblet to her and drained it in four gulps.

People chatted amongst themselves amid the clatter of forks and knives. Although followers tried to converse with their master, Voldemort looked up from his food every now and then to meet Harmony's eyes. She would gaze back until a Death Eater reclaimed his attention.

Near the end of dinner, a blond-haired Death Eater said on her right, "I hope my honorable Lady is enjoying her time at our new haven." She recognized him, but couldn't place a name. Most likely she saw him during the Battle of Hogwarts. She looked hard at him for a second and wondered if he had murdered any children on that unforgettable night. Her smile was bitter when she replied:

"Everyone has been very welcoming."

"They'd better be," he said after tearing off a bite of meat with his teeth. "The Dark Lord would slaughter them if they weren't."

She hesitated, gazing down at her plate. "You don't think that was the only reason why people were being nice to me, do you? Out of fear?"

He frowned, looking at her with uncertainty. She wondered if she had been too open with her thoughts.

"No. No, my Lady. You have their loyalty."

"I want their trust," she said suddenly.

"My Lady?"

"You hardly know me. No. You don't know me at all—not the real me." She leaned forward on her elbow. "How can you feel loyalty towards a stranger?"

"It is my duty–"

"How long have you been loyal to the Dark Lord?"

"Years."

"Did you kill Muggles?"

"Yes."

"Did you kill Muggle-borns?"

"Yes, my Lady."

"Did you enjoy it?"

He narrowed his eyes. "It was my duty."

She stared at the Death Eater intently. "So do you know what I am?"

His eyes shifted to the Dark Lord, then back to her. "I know you used to be chums with the Potter boy. I read it in the Daily Prophet. I heard from somewhere that Potter was close to a Muggle-born."

"That's right."

"So it's true," he whispered. "You  _are_  a Muggle-born. Does…" he hesitated, glancing again at his master, "does the Dark Lord know?"

"Yes. But he and I have an understanding. He no longer cares about dealing with Muggles."

" _And_  he knows about your past relationship with Potter?"

She thought a moment. "I don't know. He has never mentioned it. I know he has been reading the Daily Prophet; he had news articles all over these walls earlier. But if he knew, I don't know why he would fail to say anything."

"Yes, it's very peculiar," he said slowly. "If  _I_  knew you used to be friends with  _my_  enemy, I'd want to use your relationship to get to him."

Her eyes found Voldemort. She said softly, "Maybe he doesn't want to use me."

The blonde Death Eater laughed to himself and took a large sip of wine from his goblet. "Pardon me, my Lady."

"What are you two talking about down there?" Voldemort asked as he pushed away his empty plate. A server was quick to take it away.

"Nothing, my Lord," she said. When he raised an eyebrow at her, she added, "Politics."

He grunted and looked away with disinterest.

Mag spoke, "Now, if our Dark Lord wouldn't mind, shall we move on to heavier conversation?"

"Yes." Voldemort straightened up in his chair. "What news do you have on the Ministry?"

"Danitus and Emille, stationed in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, have heard rumors that the Potter boy and his entourage are taking residence back at Hogwarts. Perhaps they think they can remain safe there."

"Or that they can keep others safe," said a witch on Harmony's left, a woman who looked particularly frightening with a black veil covering her eyes.

"Either way is irrelevant," Voldemort said. "They ought to know now that Hogwarts is no longer a haven for them to hide in. We can walk in and out of there whenever we pleased."

"And we will, my Lord, won't we? Hogwarts has plenty of good recruits that can be taught  _properly_ , through the Dark Arts. Perhaps when they see how our numbers have grown they'll be more inclined to join us."

"Another encroachment on Hogwarts school is not our top priority," Voldemort said. "The Ministry would send help at the first whiff of trouble. We can't risk losing numbers, not when we need as many as possible to take the Ministry by force. Once the Ministry of Magic is taken and we have gained control of the Wizarding World  _then_  we will take Hogwarts, if it is still open by then. Either way, Hogwarts will be made into one of our many headquarters."

Harmony cleared her throat and she ignored all other eyes that turned to her as she said to Voldemort, "What about the children? How will they receive their education?"

"The education of the young will continue. We will, of course, be conducting our own lessons by teachers approved by me."

"In all subjects, I hope," Harmony said.

"In all the ones I deem necessary," he replied with bite.

Harmony told herself that if it did come to that then she  _would_  have a say in it, whether he liked it or not.

"And," he continued, "when we attack the Ministry, Harry Potter will come to me. He is like that foolish old man, Dumbledore: he can never run away from a fight."

" _Dead_  foolish old man, Dumbledore," Barty said with a snicker. Wicked laughter followed, and Harmony felt a sick twisting in her stomach.

After a while, the conversation moved to more mundane subjects, like how much food was needed to be imported to take care of the mass of followers, and how they were going to take care of the sanitation problems, like bathrooms and bathing. For now, people shared a river nearby to clean themselves.

Harmony could tell the mundane conversation was starting to bore the Dark Lord. He nodded every once in a while, until his blue eyes eventually glazed over as he fingered the rim of his goblet. Then he busied himself with gazing at her.

His eyes didn't always meet hers; most of the time they roved over her body, her bare arms, the plunging neckline. His tongue slid out of his mouth like a snake's and licked his bottom lip. When she tried to sense what he was feeling, she felt a confliction of both desire and annoyance, as though he was irritated by the way he longed for her. That was common for him; she knew he was so used to rejecting any intimate feelings for women that welled up inside him that whenever he felt something for  _her_  he first had to fight back those instincts to reject her.

Harmony wished she could tell him in that moment that it was okay for him to desire something beyond power.

She smiled at him from across the table while the servers began passing out small plates of chocolate treacle. He took notice to that smile and sat up straighter in his chair. She gave him a little nod before picking up her desert fork.

"—and although we continue to add more tents and family-sized caravans, we're still becoming too compact, so we're thinking of expanding the campsite outwards another two hundred acres—"

"I am finished for the night," Voldemort interrupted, pushing his chair away from the dining table. "We will continue this meeting another time."

"Oh, yes," the Death Eater stammered. "Of course, my Lord, any time."

When he stood, everyone followed suit, except her. Harmony sat there with her fork of chocolate treacle halfway to her open mouth.

"My Lady," Voldemort said, holding his hand out to her. "Join me."

She looked around at everyone watching, and then set aside her food and stood. When she passed Barty to take Voldemort's hand, he gave her a dirty smirk as though he knew what the night had in store for the couple.

Voldemort's long, slender fingers curled around her hand and held it firmly. She could feel his palm sweating. Two servers held open the tent flaps and each follower bowed as the two of them left. Throughout their journey back to the tent in the forest, Voldemort kept a hand on her at all times. She could hear him breathing heavily, even at their easy pace. She knew what was coming and the thought of it set her heart racing.

He pushed her urgently through the entrance to the tent. Their little home in the forest welcomed them with a roaring fire and a platter of sweets on the bedside table. Someone must have come and fixed everything up for them while they were at dinner.

Voldemort hadn't even taken off his cloak before seizing her from behind. She turned in his arms and he instantly pressed his lips on hers. His heavy breathing hadn't let up and she could feel hot wisps of air beating rhythmically against her cheek. He pulled her tighter until she was flush against his body. She struggled to breath, but didn't push away. He nuzzled his face into the crook of her neck; his nose was ice cold against the warmth of her skin. She heard him whisper her name, quiet enough that it sounded as though he was saying "Hermione,  _Hermione_." But as she listened closer, she heard him again with his breath hot on her neck. "Harmony, Harmony." The names sounded so similar that she had mistaken them. He said it over and over until his words drowned out into moans of longing.

A knot formed in her throat. She tried to swallow a few times, but with no relief. Breathing became impossible until she couldn't stand it, and she pushed her hands into his chest. At first he refused to move away from her, but after she insisted he eventually gave in with an irritated groan.

"Are you going to make me beg?" he murmured, tilting his head at her.

"You know I could never manage that," she whispered, but looked away.

"Then what?"

She shook her head. Hearing him say "Harmony," there was something about it that put her off. The name was a lie from the beginning, but it had become a part of her identity from the very moment  _he_  said it aloud, and for the first time in a long time, she didn't like the way he called her by it.

He read the Daily Prophet; therefore, he should know what her real name was. So why wasn't he using it. Habit, perhaps? Maybe he was just used to calling her Harmony. Or maybe he—like her—had simply come to associate the name with that part of her life: she was Hermione with Harry, and she was Harmony with him. But she didn't like to think of it that way. Hermione was her name; it was the one her parents gave her. But she couldn't bring herself to accept it; she felt she didn't deserve to be acknowledged by her old name, not after betraying her friends.

The only way she could ever reclaim her name would be if Voldemort accepted it, as well as every bit of her past, including the bit about her being his worst enemy's best friend.

She had been staring into the fire, lost in her thoughts, when he brought his cool lips to her forehead.

"You're thinking about today, aren't you?" he said, bringing a hand up to touch her hair which was still a little damp from bathing. "Meeting all of our new followers and such, you must be exhausted. Just remember how necessary they are in order for our plans to play out and you will become used to them in time."

"I am tired."

"You have a busy day tomorrow. It was tiresome for me mentoring you alone, but  _you_  have thirty to fifty students to handle tomorrow. Let's go to bed."

She looked away from the flames to his icy blue eyes. After placing a hand on his cheek—the side with the burns—she kissed him softly.

Voldemort doused the fire with his wand while Harmony slipped out of her green gown. Their little tent went dark as the two of them huddled together beneath the blankets.


	38. Chapter 38

Harmony woke the next morning with her stomach in knots. The weather was unusually warm for the season and her sweaty palms made it difficult to tie up the back of her dress. She stood in front of a full-length mirror that was perched against one of the tent poles. The reflection showed her in a close-fitted dress—given to her by her handmaidens—and her face creased from the nerves.

Today was to be her first day of teaching followers and she'd spent all morning finishing her lesson plan until it felt right. She didn't want it to be too difficult, like how Voldemort taught her, but she also wanted to challenge them. Most importantly, she wanted to teach something useful, something every witch and wizard would need to survive.

Behind her, Voldemort was pulling on a fresh pair of trousers. His bare back glowed pale yellow as sunlight spilt in through a slit from the door flap. The waistband hugged his hips when he fastened the top button. He brought hands up and ran them through his black hair. Harmony sighed and he looked over at her.

"You alright?" he asked.

"Fine," she muttered, struggling with the laces behind her back. "I'm just a little queasy. Probably had too much wine last night." A thought occurred to her and she spoke it out loud. "I think it would be best that I stopped drinking." She was coming along in her pregnancy—not enough to show yet, but any amount of alcohol couldn't be good for her.

"Why?" he asked idly as he sort through his shirts.

Harmony opened and closed her mouth. "Because it's bad for me."

He snorted at her lame remark. "Red wine is good for the heart."

She quickly added. "I would prefer to keep a clear head. I'd be no use to you or the Death Eaters if I was sloshed."

"So," he said slowly, "which is it? You are giving it up because you think it is bad for you or because you want a clear head?"

She hesitated, glancing at him over her shoulder in the mirror, and then replied, "Both." She failed to keep her voice from quivering slightly.

Voldemort was quiet a moment. He picked out a dress shirt and just held it. He stared down at the black fabric as she finished tying up her dress.

"You're nervous," he said.

"About teaching today? Yes. I am." She was relieved to jump at the change of subject.

"You've no reason to be. You're more than adequate to handle a simple teaching position."

"I suppose."

"And if anyone misbehaves, you know how to keep them in line."

"Hm?" She brushed her fingers through her hair; the ends straitened only to bounce back to their natural waves. "How?"

"Discipline, of course," he replied casually. "Cast a  _Cruciatus_  curse every now and then and they will figure out their place  _very_  quickly."

"Ah." She'd flinched at the mention of the Unforgivable curse. She flinched again when he suddenly appeared behind her before the mirror. He stood close enough for her to see the icy blue gleam in his eyes, but not enough to touch.

"You would do it, wouldn't you?" he asked with his voice low.

She swallowed hard before saying, "Yes, I think so, my Lord-"

"You know, you're not as good a liar as you think you are."

Harmony spun around to meet his eyes directly. He was staring down at her with a deep perceptiveness, as though he was looking not in her eyes but through her. Immediately, unwanted thoughts and assumptions invaded her mind.

"You mustn't be afraid to assert your authority over them," he said. "They are here in servitude."

"I'll keep them in line," she assured him. "I promise."

Harmony slipped out from under his penetrating gaze to grab her sac full of notes and books. She sat on the edge of the bed—a disheveled mess of wrinkled sheets—and slipped on her shoes. Last night, given the sudden rise in temperature, they shed the heavier blankets and slept bare on top with the sheets tangled between their legs. She hadn't had a chance to bathe that morning and looked forward to when she could return to the waterfalls later to wash the dried sweat from her body.

In a hurry, she was about to leave their tent when she stopped to look back at Voldemort. He was buttoning up his shirt with feverish concentration. His long fingers struggled with the black ivory clasps as he stared down at the rug. Harmony watched for a moment before dropping her sac and going over to him. Delicately, she took the clasps and he dropped his arms slowly. While she slipped the ivory pieces through the small holes, she looked up at him with concern. His emotions were unreadable but she could tell there were thoughts racing behind his eyes. When she tilted her head in question, he shook his head slightly. After she finished, Harmony ironed out the wrinkles on his shirt with her fingers, and then she pressed against him and planted a soft kiss on his cheek. His eyes were closed when she pulled away.

Despite it not being an official teaching position, Harmony still faced her new duties with fortitude. These followers may be a part of Voldemort's master plan to take over the Ministry—and ultimately the Wizarding World—but she still couldn't rid herself of the thought that some of these people were living their lives without having experienced the wonders of Hogwarts. She hoped she could somehow bring a little bit of that wonderment to them today. For inspiration, she thought of Harry and Dumbledore's Army. At the time, her friend had been very experienced magically and he'd made a natural teacher. Now being quite experienced herself, Harmony felt confident she could uphold a classroom as well as Professor McGonagall herself.

 _I can do this_ , she thought to herself as she ran as fast as her dress would allow towards the campsite. She wouldn't be alone. She'd have that other witch to help, whose name she discovered to be Ankaa. But then there was Barty; he'd volunteered to help teach as well. Harmony knew he was going to try to make her look silly somehow. She made a mental note to keep an eye on him once she'd arrived.

The Recreational tents, huge and round with red flags flapping at their peaks, stuck out from the box-like caravans surrounding them. Thankfully, the one Harmony was to teach in wasn't far from the forest where she and Voldemort slept. She swerved in between the masses of people going about their duties. Once her presence was known, shouts rang out for everyone to make way for her. The crowds parted and then bowed as she ran passed.

Sprinting through the entrance to the tent, she was met with a large group of people in ages ranging from ten to thirty.  _Good_ , she was given the younger followers. She imagined Mag and the other instructors would've handled the older witches and wizards. They all stood around chatting—the younger kids huddled together, staring at the older kids who pretended to cast Unforgivable curses at each other in mock duels. Harmony was also welcomed by her fellow instructor, Ankaa, as well as her handmaidens. When she rushed in, they tittered around her, asking if there was anything she needed. Harmony hadn't had the opportunity to eat anything that morning—she had been in a hurry to dress and arrive there on time—so the oldest of her handmaidens, Melantha, ordered the younger girls to fetch her some toast and marmalade jam. Melantha looked at Harmony closely while she dropped her sac on a bench and started rifling through its contents.

"If you'd like, my Lady, I can bring you something to help calm your nerves."

Harmony looked up from her sac with a pleading look and gave a nod. Her face grew warm knowing now her anxieties were obvious to see. Melantha regarded her sympathetically before she left.

Ankaa—although beautiful with dark skin and long brown hair—still had that perpetual look of austerity on her face when she came over and whispered to Harmony. "Barty Crouch Jr. still isn't here yet, my Lady."

"I'm not surprised."

"Would you like to start without him?"

"Yes, I most certainly would." Harmony handed the witch a piece of parchment that listed the charms and spells she wanted to go over. Ankaa scanned the list and looked impressed with the selection. Together, they faced the group of followers and called their attention. The older kids ceased their mock duels, and some bowed in respect. Harmony asked them all to stand in orderly lines with enough distance from each other so they had good wand-waving room. To her relief, they all obeyed without a fuss. Even with them all spaced throughout the tent, there was still a decent amount of space along the edge.

"You all may think you know why you're here," Harmony began, knowing it would be redundant if she simply introduced herself. "You think you're here because your Dark Lord needs disciplined witches and wizards to fight for him in his battles against the Aurors and countless others that want him executed. He's willing to take in those of all ages, because to him a larger army is a stronger army. To him you are soldiers, servants, and—therefore—replaceable. He has been fervent in his efforts to recruit more and more people and that number of followers grows every day. To the Dark Lord, you're one of many to do his bidding." She paused to look at each person before her in the eyes. "But I, your Lady, am telling you that that is  _not_  why you are here. As I understand it, many of you will live your lives without having been enrolled in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. And I say what a terrible loss that is. Hogwarts teaches students like you the very basics of being a witch and wizard. Given you are having that opportunity taken from you, that is the reason why you're here now: You're here before me to learn how to survive in this increasingly dangerous world we live in; from the very basics and beyond. The Dark Lord and I had the immense pleasure of being taught at Hogwarts; he and I loved it equally. I want to give you an idea of what it would be like to attend school, as I believe every person of magical abilities should." Harmony pointed at the entrance to the tent where countless people passed by. "And if someone out there tries to tell you differently, then you can send them to me, and I'll deal with them myself. Alright?"

There was a chorus of "Yes, my Lady." And in that instant, Harmony could feel the tension dissolving from the air. They looked upon her with renewed respect and glowing veneration. She gave them a gentle smile and then stated, "Let's begin."

But before she could even announce the first spell they would learn, Harmony became distracted by what looked like a couple brown balls rolling from the entrance across to the group of students. The moment she realized what they were it was too late. There was only time for her to whisper a soft  _No_  before one of her students shouted "Dungbombs!" And with a loud  _pfft!_  clouds of putrid odor enveloped the entire group. Kids began coughing and waving frantically at the air. Harmony covered her mouth and nose with one hand, wishing briefly that she still wore her face scarf. She had a feeling this was only the beginning of her trouble, that there was still more to come. And she was proved right when Barty Crouch Jr. appeared at the center of the tent—a dirty cloth covering his nose—with one hand raised up, and Harmony saw it was full of what looked like black sand.

She raised her wand to expel the stuff from him but wasn't quick enough. An impenetrable darkness exploded forth from the blackness in his hand, and it expanded to shroud the entire inside of the tent.  _Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder_ , Harmony thought to herself in boiling anger. She knew better than to try and cast a  _Lumos_  to find her way through the dark; the powder deterred any kind of light-casting spell.

It was like her eyes had been covered in a thick black cloth. She couldn't see an inch in front of her nose. But she could hear as everything inside the tent disintegrated into sheer chaos. There were shouts and screams, and she caught the sound of raucous laughter that must've belonged to Barty. There was the sound of people running about; she could feel the blow of air as they passed close by. Worst of all, she heard spells being cast and loud  _thumps_  as bodies hit the ground.

Harmony imagined Barty would've stood still at the center of the tent to enjoy himself as chaos ensued all around him. Instinctively, she knew he had been standing south of her, and she drew out her wand and held it flat in her palm. " _Point me_ ," she muttered, and the tip of her wand flicked north. She followed it south and took baby steps to keep from tripping. Then someone—one of her younger students she guessed—violently collided into her as they had been sprinting manically trying to find the entrance to the tent. They both landed hard on the ground, and for a moment Harmony lost her wand. After a quick  _Accio_ , she cast the Four-Point spell again and continued to find her quarry.

Finally, she bumped into someone who felt too large to be one of her kids. She felt him lurching about as he cast spell after spell in random directions, contributing to the pandemonium. Harmony latched on to him, feeling his dirty trench coat and mangy hair. Definitely Barty. She dug her fingers into his clothes and shook him in anger. Maybe he knew it was her—maybe he didn't—but he grabbed her and pulled her to him into what could only be described as a hug but it felt much more violent to be so. His face was in her face and his boisterous chortling was loud in her ear.

"Now  _this_  is how you teach a class," he said.

"I. Am. Going. To. Kill. You," Harmony growled through gritted teeth.

"Goodie," he replied, clinching her tighter. "Sounds like fun."

They were bumped into from all sides. When she heard another scream, followed by the sounds of sobbing, Harmony had reached her breaking point. She screeched in exasperation, and with a flurry of emotion, she expelled a  _Cascadia_  that bloomed from her core and soared away from her body in a blue flash. Barty was gone, and a moment later, the Instant Darkness powder followed.

She looked around at the results. There were people lying motionless on the ground and she quickly went over to each of them to make sure them weren't dead. She would hate to have to explain to the parents why their son or daughter was never coming home again. What a horrible thought. But thankfully, no one was wounded. There were a couple that had been  _Stupefied_ ; Harmony blamed that on Barty. The infuriating wizard himself was lying on his back at the other side of the tent. The power behind her _Cascadia_  must have flung him away. She was standing over him in an instant, pushing her flustered face close to his. He looked dizzy, having crashed into a couple of benches.

" _Dungbombs_?" she yelled in anger. "How childish can you be, Bartimus Crouch Jr.?"

"Oh, don't be so dull," he slurred, smiling—always smiling. "It was just a load of fun."

"You could've had one of them killed! There are children here!"

"You could hardly call them children," he said, sitting up with a cringe. "I was almost seventeen when I killed my first man."

"I am not teaching them to be  _murderers_ ," she hissed.

He laughed again, but in a way that was curt and mocking. "All of these people were destined to become murderers the second they entered this campsite. This new headquarters is a murderer-making machine, if you haven't already noticed. We murder for the cause. We murder for the Dark Lord."

"My Lady," Ankaa said in a low voice behind Harmony's shoulder. "I have never seen such defiance from a Death Eater. Our Lord would be most displeased."

" _Our Lord_  knows that I am one of his most faithful followers," Barty said.

"And you know full well that he would blame me for your troublemaking here today," Harmony said. "'True leaders know how to keep their people in line.' That's what he'd say."

Barty merely shrugged. He started to stand up from his knees, but Harmony forcefully jabbed her wand in his face and he fell back to the ground.

"I really ought to kill you," Harmony murmured. Everything in the tent became deathly quiet.

He stared at the tip of her wand, and then moved his dark eyes to hers. "But you won't. You wouldn't."

She pressed her lips together and became suddenly aware of everyone watching her with baited breath. There was a part of her—a tiny little twinge—that wanted to see if she could actually do it, actually kill another human being. But the thought of children being present immediately pushed all lethal thoughts aside. Harmony lowered her wand. A corner of Barty's lips twitched upward. She turned her back on him and forced herself to imagine that he wasn't even there.

With Ankaa's help, the students were sorted back into their orderly lines. She started them off with a simple Disarming charm. In time, she had everyone in pairs practicing on each other. She took this opportunity to take a short break where her handmaidens were waiting for her with food. She was starving and quickly scarfed everything down, even licking her fingers clean of marmalade jam when she was done.

Melantha was carrying a brown flask and handed it to Harmony. "For your nerves, my Lady."

Harmony thanked her with a sigh. "What is it?" she asked right before she took a gulp.

"Firewhiskey, my Lady."

Harmony choked on the flask and the whiskey came spraying out of her mouth. It drenched everyone standing nearby, and Barty burst out laughing at the sight of her handmaidens scrunching their faces in disgust.

Harmony wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and began apologizing profusely.

Melantha took the flask back, looking worried. "I'm so sorry, my Lady. When I said I could get something for the nerves, I thought you knew-"

"It doesn't matter," Harmony said between coughs. "It's alright. I'll be fine. I'm just—no longer a drinker is all."

"I can go see if the medical tent has any calming draughts made up."

"No," Harmony said quickly. "No, that's alright. I'm better now anyway, I think. Thank you, Melantha."

The older witch bowed and stepped away with deep shame riddled all over her face.

By the time lessons were over for the day, everyone—save the ten-year-old kids—was able to conjure a successful Disarming charm. As they filed out of the tent, Harmony felt both proud and anxious. She'd helped these people come one step closer to being a mature witch and wizard. But on the other hand, they were surely going to spread word on what happened with Barty's antics. Voldemort had told her to use discipline when need be, but she had failed that. Harmony had a horrible feeling she was going to be getting an earful from him soon enough.

Barty was one of the last to leave the tent. Ankaa saw this and, thankfully, stuck by Harmony's side.

"I have nothing to say to you," Harmony said to Barty as he strolled up to her.

"I just wanna say that I knew you weren't going to do it," he said. "Kill me, I mean."

"Perhaps I was feeling particularly generous today," she replied. "Even the Dark Lord has his good days."

"Bullocks. You don't have it in you and you know it."

"Have what?"

"The passion for killing. The lust for causing pain."

"How would you know? You don't know me-"

"Oh," he grinned, "I do know you. I may know you better than the Dark Lord himself." His grin dropped and he looked at her with a fathomless seriousness that she was unaccustomed to seeing from him. His dark eyes were black pits, drawing her in. "Every second you're nearby, I watch you. Every breath, every smile, every twinge of disgust and fear. I see it all. It's amazing what one catches when they're paying close enough attention." He paused, then tilted his head at her in a way that was almost pitying. "The truth is you're still that girl, that brightest witch of her age: Hermione Granger, clever girl but made of porcelain."

"I'm not," she whispered. "I've changed."

"I think you just wish you've changed. It makes the guilt of abandoning your friends so much easier to bear."

Harmony gaped, feeling like she'd just been punched in the stomach. After taking a moment to compose herself, she said in a threatening whisper, "You are the scum of the earth."

"I'm also honest. Are you honest with the Dark Lord? Do you two discuss your past? Everyone here knows about it from reading  _The Daily Prophet_. I'm just curious as to whether the world's most unlikely star-crossed lovers share a little pillow talk."

"We  _don't_  discuss it, actually, and I absolutely refuse to talk about it with you, of all people."

"Hm," he grunted thoughtfully. "It sounds to me the Dark Lord is in denial. Well, so would I, knowing my woman was chums with my enemy."

"How dare you speak such things about your Lord!" Ankaa shouted.

Barty looked at her as though just remembering he wasn't alone with Harmony. His eyes drifted down to the wand clutched in the witch's fist. He blinked and smiled innocently.

"It's alright, now. I think I've made my point," he said before leaving.

Ankaa stayed to make sure she was alright, but Harmony dismissed her.

Standing alone in the enormous recreational tent, she felt the bitter sting of annoyance. Mostly towards Barty and everything he'd done to ruin her day. But what annoyed her most of all was what he'd just said, and how everything—every single word—had been the undeniable truth.


	39. Chapter 39

With lessons over, Harmony was at a loss for what to do next. She had expected some of her students to approach her afterwards—to ask questions or receive pointers—but none did. Some had eyed her timidly before bowing out of the tent. She suspected her anger over Barty's antics frightened them a little. After all, they didn't know yet whether she possessed the same short temperament as their Dark Lord. But she'd show them. She'd teach them with the kindness and patience he hardly showed his Death Eaters. The only question was whether her failure to punish Barty would lead her students to take advantage of her, like Voldemort had warned.

She had  _wanted_  to curse Barty. But in front of all those people? If she  _had_  cursed him, maybe even killed him, she would have lost their compassion; they would fear her and she would be no more merciful than the Dark Lord—at least in their eyes. The more she thought about it, the more relieved she was that she hadn't harmed Barty. Her students needed to see that under emotional stress she could keep under control and not give in to her dangerous urges.

However, if they did try to take advantage of her kindness, she would have no choice but to deploy some form of punishment. She hoped beyond hope that that moment never came. She wanted her lessons to be a safe place where these kids could come and learn. Outside, they were surrounded by dangerous followers who eagerly anticipated the Dark Lord's destructive plans, while at least inside her recreational tent she had the only thing she had any real control over.

Harmony promised herself she would let nothing take that sense of control away from her.  _Especially_ not Barty.

She left the tent and looked around at the flurry of activity while wondering what to do next. She thought of looking for Voldemort and keeping him company while he worked. He was no doubt plotting away on how to best infiltrate the Ministry—information she exceedingly found appealing. But he was in another one of his sour moods; she could sense it even at that moment. Agitation, annoyance. She couldn't tell if it had anything to do with planning his impending attack, but she knew it was a bad mood that would only worsen at the news of how she'd handled Barty. By the end of the day, he'll have heard it down the grapevine. She wasn't looking forward to being at the focus of his anger, but it was unavoidable.

Harmony sauntered around the campsite, letting her thoughts drift, and she found herself back at the children's tent she had visited the other day. Their laughter rang out from the open tent flap where she could see the little ones running around while the witches chased them. She smiled a little to herself and something deep within her began to ache with yearning.

There was a small tug on her dress and she looked down, meeting a pair of wide blue eyes. The little black-haired girl she'd met earlier, Aislin, was standing there smiling up at her.

"Hello there," Harmony said, bending to a knee so they saw eye-to-eye.

"Hi," the girl chirped. "Are you busy?"

Harmony gave a small laugh. "I'm a little bored, actually."

"Good. I've wanted to talk to you, but Mother said I shouldn't because you're busy."

"Well, you've caught me on a free moment. I'm glad; I've wanted to talk to you, too."

Aislin took Harmony's hand and she let the girl guide her. They left the clamor of the campsite and traded it for the rush of the small river on the far north side. Aislin plopped down on a patch of grass, crossing her legs, and beckoned her to do the same. Harmony folded her legs beneath her, careful to find a dry patch so she wouldn't dirty her dress.

The girl's pretty eyes watched the water drifting by as it glinted in the sunlight, and Harmony got the feeling she was waiting for her to have the first word. It was then Harmony sensed that there was something special about this girl, something wise and knowing that other children her age lacked. She had wanted to start out delicately, as she regularly would have when speaking to a child, but now she decided to jump straight to the point.

"In my school days, I never really put much faith in Divination. Staring at tea leaves, opening one's mind to their Inner Eye," she said, recalling Mrs. Trelawney's flighty voice. "It all seemed like a load of rubbish. I believed that, purely, magic was logic. That is was simply a science that the muggle world had failed to acknowledge, and I took great comfort in that. But now," she hesitated, and then laughed a little, "it seems Divination is the only subject that can answer most of my questions."

Harmony looked at the girl and noticed she was watching her carefully, large eyes staring. "I've been plagued with dream after dream that have put my mind in a constant state of unrest. And I have noticed that they've only started after I've met the Dark Lord. If ever I had a dream before, they were nothing worth noting, but now…there is  _meaning_  to them. It's like they're trying to warn me or…" she stopped then laughed sheepishly. "Oh dear, I probably sound strange to you, talking like dreams are visions of the future."

Aislin merely smiled and beckoned her to continue.

"Well," Harmony added, straightening up, "in one of my most recent dreams—more like a nightmare, really—there was a little girl in it. A little girl who," she waved a hand over Aislin, "looked exactly like you."

She had expected the girl to give a surprised look, maybe even laugh a little, anything but what she actually did.

Aislin turned her head away, staring off into the distance and sighed, "It happens."

Harmony blinked. "Um, I'm sorry?"

Aislin looked back at her with her little black eyebrows raised. "Oh, you know, my showing up in people's dreams. It happens."

"What, you mean it has happened before?"

Her thick head of black curls bounced once when she nodded. "For as long as I could remember, I've had dreams of people I've never met before. And if I'm lucky, I meet them, and they remember me from their own dream. Mother says they're drawn to me like insects to light. The first time she dreamed of me was when I was still in her belly. She said that from that moment she knew exactly what was going on. She knew what I was."

"And what is that?" Harmony asked, her voice breathy with anticipation.

Aislin's rose-petal lips spread into a large, gleeful smile. "A Seer."

Harmony reeled back in shock. "But how could—Seers are  _very_  rare! And you're a child! If ever there was one, such as in Greek history, they had to work hard to become the powerful Seers that they were."

Aislin quickly sat up on her knees and gazed up at Harmony imploringly. "I  _am_  a Seer! How else could I show up in other's dreams?"

"A Seer can peek into the future—"

"And I have seen it," Aislin said. "I've seen you. And  _him_. And…" she leaned forward hesitantly, lifting a little hand and placing it delicately on Harmony's stomach.

Harmony took a sharp intake of breath and involuntarily flinched away from the girl's touch. Aislin plucked her fingers away from the soft green fabric of her dress. Harmony quickly glanced around their spot by the river to see if anyone happened to be standing nearby. Thankfully, they were still alone.

"Please don't be mad at me," Aislin gasped, looking as though she were on the verge of tears. "I can't help it. I see things whether I want to or not."

"My goodness," Harmony whispered in awe. "A child Seer. I've never read of such a thing." Immediately she had the urge to go find the nearest library and delve into research on the subject. She took a deep breath and scooted closer to let the girl know it was alright. "With what you can do now, with practice and good learning, there's no limit to how powerful you could be."

Aislin nodded solemnly. "Mother says I'm not allowed to tell others about it freely. She says that people will take me away from her if I do, and they'll force me to See for them."

"I'd listen to your mother," Harmony said, thinking about Voldemort and how he would desire nothing more than to get his hands on this talented little girl. "If someone ever approaches you again about having seen you in their dreams, I'd be careful in telling them the truth. Make sure you can trust them. And I won't tell anyone either," she added. "I promise."

"Thank you," she said, smiling in gratitude. She tilted her head, regarding the older witch with curiosity. "You look sad."

"Do I?" Harmony tucked her bangs behind her ear and shrugged. "I suppose I am. It's just—when I saw you in my dream, I thought you were…well…mine." She looked up at the girl and smiled at her sadly. "You have his eyes. So blue."

"I got them from my mother's side. She's a pureblood." Aislin sighed and rolled back onto the grass. Her eyelids closed against the sunshine and long lashes brushed the tops of her pink cheeks.

Harmony reared her face up to the sun, enjoying the warmth it gave. It was still cold out, but the sun had burned away the morning cloud cover and a misty haze came off the grass as it evaporated the dew. It was the exact kind of weather where people served their best fruity treats with cold cream and still kept their campfires blazing. It would be holiday season eventually. That fact brought bittersweet emotions. The holidays always had a way of cheering her up, but they wouldn't be the same without her friends or family. Just the thought of them brought back the familiar pang of yearning. She wondered if she'd ever see them again. Her future felt so uncertain. It frightened her a little.

"Hey Aislin," Harmony began slowly, opening her eyes a sliver and looking down at the girl lying on the grass. "Is it difficult for you to use your ability?"

Aislin sat up and gave her a knowing smile. "I know what you're going to ask."

Harmony cast her eyes down in shame. "I would never want to force you to See-"

"It's alright!" Aislin quickly chirped, crossing her legs and scooting closer to the older witch. "I don't know if I can do it right this second, but I wanna try. I like you." She held her soft hands out to Harmony, palms up, and waited.

When Harmony slipped her hands in hers, Aislin rested them in her lap and closed her pretty blue eyes. She was quiet for a long time and her dark eyebrows knit together in concentration.

"You've been on a long journey," Aislin began, her usually light-hearted voice now deep and droning, "full of heavy decisions and danger. You have endured a lot."

"You can see it?" Harmony asked in uncertainty. Aislin didn't appear to be in a trance state.

"I can feel it. Everything you felt. So much desperation and love. That's why you've been able to endure for so long; it's because of love."

"And what of the future?" Harmony asked, her heart racing with anticipation. She was caught between wanting to know but feeling too frightened to find out. What if it was a dreadful future? What if she had nothing to look forward to?

The girl was quiet for a while and then, "Oh my," she whispered.

"What?"

"I feel—pain and doubt. You'll question yourself and decisions you've made."

"Well," Harmony grunted, "I suppose that's not very surprising."

Aislin's eyes popped open and focused on Harmony. She gave her hands a comforting squeeze. "I'm so sorry," she whispered. Her voice had its usual lightness back. "But you must continue to endure, for there is much more to come."

Harmony stared, beseeching her to continue her explanation. But the child spoke no more. Aislin playfully tugged her hands away. She jumped up, skipping to the river's edge, and left Harmony to gape at the flattened grass where she once sat.

A chill ravaged her body and she shivered.  _I should have expected that_ , Harmony thought. Being the lover of the most dangerous wizard in the world was bound to have its travesties, but she was just starting to have some hope that it was easy sailing from there on. She and Voldemort had already been through so much, simply just to be together. How could there still be more to come?

Harmony swallowed her emotions while she watched Aislin giggle and play in the water, and she thought to herself,  _Will he and I ever find peace together?_

Cold water splashed onto her face and she flinched, jolting out of her thoughts. A peal of laughter followed as Harmony wiped her face dry with the hem of her dress. Despite her previous dark thoughts, she couldn't keep the smile from her face. Aislin egged her on by sticking her cute little pink tongue out at her, and Harmony languidly got to her feet.

"Oh, you're going to regret that," Harmony said before she hitched up the hem of her dress and jumped into the river, sending a small tidal wave over the gleeful little girl. Together they entered into a lively water fight, full of splashing and soaking and laughter. Harmony quickly gave up on the intention of keeping her pretty green dress dry; it plastered to her like a second skin and she threw all care to the wind, focusing only on her little bit of play. She felt like a child again. It had been so long since she'd put aside all responsibilities for amusement, to frolic and joke around. It did her heart good. It helped her forget the little girl's foreboding premonitions. At least for a little while.

When they were both tired out—and soaking wet!—Harmony suggested they go find a market stand selling treacle tart. Hand-in-hand, they returned to the campsite, squashing with each step they took in their sodden shoes. People gawked at their Mistress when she walked passed, aghast that she would let herself be seen in such a state. Her hair framed her face in stringy waves—once dry, they would return to their usual curl. Her dress hugged her every curve, and she almost wished she had kept her cloak on to retain her modesty. But it didn't matter really; no one dared to stare at her too long knowing Voldemort would punish them if they were caught looking at her with anything akin to lust.

Harmony was sitting on a bench licking sweet jam from her fingertips when a familiar-looking woman approached. Aislin beamed with crumbs still sprinkling her lips and she ran to the woman who scooped her up in her arms.

"My Lady," the woman said, bowing as much as she could under the load she carried. "I hope my daughter wasn't a nuisance. She's spirited is all and has taken quite a liking to you."

"It's alright," Harmony replied, dusting crumbs off her dress. "She was actually keeping me company."

"I wouldn't have thought a young woman such as yourself ever lacked company," the woman added out of politeness.

"I like Aislin," Harmony said, smiling at the girl in her arms. "She has…quite a gift."

The mother was startled and gave Aislin a scolding look. "I hope she hadn't revealed anything too alarming, my Lady."

"She was insightful," Harmony said simply, adjusting herself in her seat. "She also told me of your fears if the truth about her were to become too well-known, and I agree."

The woman sagged with relief. She gazed down shyly and the corners of her lips quirked upward. "So I was right about you."

"What do you mean?"

She shrugged one shoulder. "People here talk. They say you're a kind and merciful woman; that you're nothing like our Dark Lord."

"It's true."

"Yes," the woman smiled, "I can tell by the way you treat my Aislin. And…" she hesitated.

"What is it?"

Aislin's mother glanced around the bustling marketplace and stepped closer so that when she spoke only Harmony could hear. "There are many of us, my Dear Lady, who pledge their loyalty to you. And I mean," her eyes darted around them again and she dropped her voice to a whisper, " _only_  to you. If it ever came to it, we'd defend you over the Dark Lord."

Harmony leaned away and shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "Your Lord would be very displeased by that."

The woman's eyes popped open with fear. "Oh, I hope you don't mean to tell the Dark Lord—I am so sorry, my Merciful Lady, if I should have held my tongue."

Harmony held up a hand to her. "I won't tell him. He's in a bad enough mood as it is." She sighed heavily and cocked her head to the side as she regarded the woman. "You seem like a good person. Why drag your daughter into a dangerous place such as this?"

"There are lots of good people at this camp, my Lady" Aislin's mother replied. "As for why they joined, well, everyone is different. Some had no choice. When the Dark Lord comes to you in person and orders you to follow, it's not wise to decline. For others, this camp offers a better life: a place to live, eat, sleep, learn. A place of community in exchange for service to the Dark Lord. But there are some who share our Lord's vision to overthrow the Ministry. Some people are unhappy, my Lady. Myself included. We desire to see someone else take leadership over the Wizarding World."

"I see," Harmony said quietly.

The woman opened her mouth to add something but hesitated. She looked down at Aislin who was now asleep with her little face snuggled into the crook of her mother's neck. Looking back up at Harmony warily, she finally spoke, "There are whispers, my Lady. In secret around the campfire people share my view about you. They—we believe that  _you_ , my Lady, would make an excellent leader."

Harmony sputtered, "W-what? You mean to the Wizarding World?"

The woman quickly explained with enthusiasm, jolting Aislin awake in her arms. "You're powerful. Perhaps as powerful as the Dark Lord! And you're intelligent, or so I've been told. You have more experience than most witches and wizards get in their lifetime. But most importantly you are kind. The way you treat my daughter with sweetness and compassion, that's what our world needs right now. The Dark Lord is firm, but he is the kind of man to put his needs before others—if I might be so bold."

"I-I," Harmony stammered, waving her hands about for the woman stop. "I've heard enough. You must think of your Lord and me as equals, for your own sake. It's hard enough that you've put your faith in me over his, but to think I could take over as the Minster of Magic? It's madness! If he catches wind that some of his own followers want to remove him then it wouldn't end well for any of you."

"I understand the dangers of our beliefs, my Lady," she said as she bowed deeply. "I only wanted you to know the truth."

"And I thank you. But  _please_  speak no more about it. You must put those ideas out of your mind."

The woman said nothing for a minute, only stared at the front of Harmony's dress with her lips pressed in a thin line. Then she bowed deeply again until her spine was nearly parallel to the ground. "Of course, my Lady." She took a few steps backward before unbending herself and walking away.

Harmony watched the woman leave with a heavy feeling in the pit of her stomach. She was glad her kindness had made some sort of impression upon a few of the people there, but she never imagined they'd use that as a reason to idolize her more than Voldemort. It was dangerous thinking. The symbolism of her Serpentine charm was that she was to take Voldemort's place if ever he died or could no longer lead. If he found out that followers intended to make her a leader before such, then Harmony greatly feared the wrath that would ensue.


	40. Chapter 40

The flurry of activity in and around the campsite went on throughout the day, all the way into the evening. Followers carried supplies—water, food, housewares, luggage—to every corner where it was needed. It seemed to Harmony as though everyone got along well; there were no arguments about someone getting more stuff than others, all were keen to share all that they had with their fellow Death Eaters. If someone was hungry, they could walk up to a neighboring campfire and help themselves to the food simmering by the flames. If someone needed a rest, there was always a seat or a bench or a cot available. Despite being overrun by a bunch of Death Eaters, it felt like a safe place.

And, despite being Death Eaters, they certainly knew how to have fun. Harmony was walking by one of the recreational tents when she overheard a group making plans for the evening.

"We've got five kegs of ale coming to this tent," said one of the men who carried a barrel smelling of salted meat over his shoulders. "Make sure they're not tapped until the music starts. Last night it was hardly nine when one of the young witches started belly dancing on the tables."

Music, dancing, drinking. Harmony wondered what was going on, until she remembered how Mag and Barty mentioned that followers liked to host parties at the recreational tents from time to time. It was a way of having fun and keeping up moral.

" _I_  had nothing against the belly dancing," another man retorted, getting him a couple of chortles from the other males. One of the women quickly changed the subject.

"There are also a few crates of food on their way over," she said. "And that elderly witch on the south end has been cooking all day making every flavor of pie you can imagine."

One of the men clapped his hands together, rubbing them with enthusiasm. "Oh ho ho, I can already tell tonight's going to be thrilling."

"Just," the woman began, clapping a hand on his shoulder, "try to keep your pants on this time."

The group roared with laughter and they continued on with their work.

Harmony was already buzzing with excitement. She'd wanted to show the Death Eaters that she was a good person, what better way to do that than by spending some quality party time with them? She was yearning for a little fun and adventure. Eating, dancing, singing; it sounded like a great way to let off some of the stress that had been troubling her lately. But she wouldn't be able to go without letting Voldemort know first. She wasn't exactly sure how he would take the idea of going to the festivities, but maybe she could convince him to join her in letting loose. Heaven knew he could use a little letting loose.

The sun was setting—the party was starting in an hour—when Harmony decided to go seek out Voldemort. With direction from some of the followers, she was led back to the tent which housed all of the books and belongings that once resided within the Riddle mansion before it was burned down.

She hesitantly poked her head inside. The Dark Lord was conversing with one of his Death Eaters with their heads bowed together over a pile of open books on a table. Harmony slipped into the tent and sat in one of the green velvet covered dining chairs. Her hair was still wet from playing with Aislin in the river, and while she waited for them to finish, she used a hot-air charm to dry it. She brushed her fingers through the tresses to tame it as well as she could. All the while, she couldn't help but overhear Voldemort's conversation with his Death Eater.

"I want all of your students ready to perform this list of curses I've provided," he said, pointing a long finger down at the pile of books on the table. "Especially the Reductor curse. It is imperative they're adept before our final mission. I will look in on you and your students myself. When I deem them ready, you will begin their lessons on the Unforgivable curses."

"Of course, my Lord," the Death Eater said with a bow then inclined his head thoughtfully. "But of course, my Lord, it may be…difficult for some to produce an Unforgivable curse. Especially the Killing curse. They can be brutal, but they are still young."

"I don't accept excuses," Voldemort spat, making the Death Eater reel back. "I was a teenager when I cast my first Killing curse. Either your students learn it or they are of no use to me."

The Death Eater was nearly doubled over when he bowed. Voldemort turned away from him and he knew he was excused. Frantically, he gathered together the pile of books into his arms and left.

Voldemort leaned back against the table, rubbing the bridge of his nose. When he dropped the hand, his eyes opened and they spotted Harmony sitting there watching him. By the look on his face, she could tell he had not noticed her when she first walked in.

Harmony regarded him cautiously at first. He was in one of his moods and she hoped beyond hope that he had not yet heard about the incident that happened that morning with Barty. But the expression on his face while he looked at her was indiscernible. She got up from the chair and went over to him. He sat down on the table and took her by the hips, placing her between his knees.

"For the love of Merlin," he said up to her in a tired voice, "tell me your day was better than mine."

 _Good_ , she thought,  _so he hasn't heard_. She couldn't help but smile as she pressed against him and replied, "I can't complain."

He leaned into her and kissed the exposed skin in the plunging neckline of her dress.

She closed her eyes and sighed heavily. "So…the Reductor curse. I hadn't thought to teach that to my students. But the Unforgivable curses? Isn't it a bit too soon to starting teaching those? They're so dangerous."

In between kisses, he replied, "It's never too soon to properly educate our witches and wizards. This isn't Hogwarts, our followers will learn quicker than all the others."

Harmony didn't agree, but she was too distracted by the feel of his lips on her to say anything.

"That is," he said with an edge to his voice, "if I can get these bloody Death Eaters to teach them properly."

She pulled away slightly and looked down at him. "What's the matter?"

"Excuse me?" he asked.

"You've been in a foul mood lately."

"What?" he said, pushing her away. He turned to distract himself with the bookshelves behind them.

"Yeah," she said, joining him. "You've been in a foul mood ever since you introduced me to the followers." She gingerly caressed his shoulder and added hesitantly, "I used to think it was because you didn't like how people looked at your burns, but now I think it's something else entirely."

"My mood is not foul."

"It is too," she said and a smile crept onto her lips. "The only time it isn't is when we're in bed together."

He looked at her out of the corner of his eyes.

"Am I wrong?" she challenged him.

He ran his long fingers over the spines of the books thoughtfully. "I suppose," he began with reluctance, "that I've been a little more…standoff-ish lately."

"Why?" she asked, resting her chin on his arm.

"It's silly, really," he said with a shrug.

"Tell me," she purred.

"Things have been happening around camp, just little things with the followers. But mostly it's the way they treat you—or I guess I should say it's the lack of how they treat me."

She frowned up at him. "What do you mean?"

"Ever since you've arrived, the followers have been paying more attention to you than to me."

"Oh," she said, straightening up. "Oh, well, that's not surprising. I'm just the new girl in town. They'll bore of me soon enough."

"It's not just that," he added with a bit of impatience. "It's almost like they're treating you  _better_  than me. I mean, just this morning…"

"What?"

He shook his head. "Forget it."

She looked up at him imploringly, but he turned his face away. She sighed and caressed his chest. "They'll bore of me," she repeated, "and everything will go back to normal."

He didn't say anything.

"I think I know what the problem is," she said with an eager smile and she wrapped her arms around his neck so he'd look at her. "You're overstressed. All these followers and plan making and demands. You need some release."

"Oh," he said, quirking an eyebrow down at her with interest. "And what exactly do you have in mind?"

She laughed. "I overheard some followers talking. There's going to be a party tonight at the recreational tents. Music, eating, dancing. It could be fun."

His face fell. "You mean…you want  _us_  to go?"

"Yes."

" _Us_?"

"Why not?"

"Do you even hear yourself," he said, tugging her hands off his neck. "You and me, the Dark Lord and Lady, joining in the festivities with our Death Eaters."

"So?" she said, poking him playfully in the ribs. "They wouldn't mind. And I know you'd enjoy yourself."

"Oh, really," he challenged, "and how exactly do you know?"

"I specifically remember the Underground dueling tournament where you and I danced the night away for hours. You were certainly enjoying yourself then."

He scoffed and waved away her words. "I was under the guise of Marek. No one there knew who I really was. I was free to act however I wanted to."

"You could still do that now," she enticed him. "Forget what your Death Eaters think. You are the Dark Lord Voldemort, after all. If you want to have fun, then you go right ahead and do it."

There was a moment of silence where she could tell he was really thinking it over. But his cheeks flushed the more he thought about it, and he finally shook his head. He straightened himself and looked down at her.

"I do need some release," he said with hooded eyes. "But I don't want to get it from a bunch of our Death Eaters." He fingered the front of her dress. "How about you and I head back to our little tent in the woods—bring some food with us, maybe find some music—and have a little party of our own?"

She gave an "Oh" and grinned up at him. "Well, that does sound intriguing." The party with the followers at the recreational tent had seemed thrilling, but how could she say "no" to an offer like that?

"Good," he said, wrapping an arm around her waist. "Our evening is settled then."

Outside the tent, he gave a few orders to his Death Eaters to help them get their "party" started, but the final and most important order was that under no circumstances were he and she allowed to be interrupted for the rest of the evening.

Usually, Voldemort was careful to avoid any public display of affection whenever they were around the followers, but that night seemed to bring an exception. As they walked through the campsite, he kept a hand on her at all times—on her back, her hips, her shoulders—and sometimes whispered into her ear, making her laugh aloud. It was as though he disregard what anyone else thought entirely, as though he had only one thing on his mind and nothing else mattered.

Harmony was just fighting to keep down a fit of giggles after something he'd just said when a mousey-looking man walked up to them. He had curly brown hair and a nervous composure. When he stepped in their way, he bowed his head respectfully and apologized before saying anything else.

"My Lord, my Lady," he said with a nasally voice.

"What is it, now?" Voldemort said impatiently. "Can't you see we're off on important business?"

"Everything you do is important," the man replied movingly. "I only wished to bring something to your attention, something that is also of great consequence."

"Get on with it," Voldemort demanded, wrapping his arm tighter around her waist.

"My Lord, I noticed that you were unaware of what had transpired today with your very own Bartimus Crouch Jr."

Harmony felt her whole body go cold.  _No_ , she thought in horror.

"What had transpired?" Voldemort asked, still impatient.

"My Lord, one of my children was at lessons this morning with my Lady when Bartimus rudely interrupted. He set off those horrible dung bombs and even rumored to have brought Peruvian black sand. He caused quite a stir and it gave my child a fright. He still won't stop talking about it."

Voldemort's attention was captured. "He caused a distraction, you say?"

"A horrible one," the man said. He looked up and met Harmony's confounded gaze. "My Lord would've been most displeased if he had been present."

Voldemort pursed his lips, thinking a moment. "Barty has always been spirited, but I wouldn't have expected such insolent behavior from him." He looked over at Harmony, "I take it you handled him."

Harmony's mouth was hanging open when the man quickly replied for her:

"Oh no, my Lord," he said, "that's why I've come to speak to you. Once I heard how Bartimus had gotten away with his behavior unpunished, I knew something must be done."

"Oh," Voldemort said slowly, raising an eyebrow at her. "His behavior has gone unpunished?"

"Yes, my powerful Lord."

She looked back at him sheepishly, unsure of what to say.

He stared at her for a long time before blinking once and looking away. "Well, that is unacceptable. Barty may be one of my most loyal followers, but even he is not exempt from reprimand." He whipped out his wand and pointed it at the man. "Until next we see Barty, you will have the honor of accepting his punishment."

"Of course, my Lord," the man said before his words cut short and he was suddenly writhing on the ground with screams of agony spewing from his mouth. It caused quite a scene and many followers stopped what they were doing to watch the violent display. Harmony kept her eyes averted; the man was experiencing the pain she should have caused Barty that morning.

His screams went on for a couple more seconds until Voldemort flicked his wand away and slipped it up his sleeve. Everything around them had gone exceptionally quiet. Harmony could hear her emotional gasps of air.

The man on the ground twitched and made guttural noises with the side of his face pressed in the dirt. After a moment of enormous effort, they could finally make out what he was saying, "T-t-thank y-you, my Lord."

"If you see Barty tomorrow," Voldemort said to the man on the ground, "be sure to send him my way."

The man could hardly reply. All he could do was manage a painful nod.

Voldemort smoothed out his robes and leaned over to say into Harmony's ear, "I thought was had discussed this."

"We had," she said quietly, "and I was going to punish Barty, I promise…"

"But?"

"But I couldn't," she added. "Not in front of all those children."

He gave a loud sigh. "I must say I'm slightly disappointed, but not surprised."

"I knew you would be," she said guiltily.

"You and I will discuss this further," he said and grasped the back of her neck with his long fingers, "but we have a  _party_  to get to, do we not?"

She sighed with relief, glad that the problem was put aside for now.

Nothing else could have bothered them that evening. They could have gone to their tent. They could have spent the rest of the night slow dancing together, eating treacle tart, sipping pumpkin juice, making love, and talking about random aspects of their life they'd never shared with anyone before. That night could have been perfect. It could have been a lot of things. But Harmony wasn't that lucky.

The crowd was starting to reanimate itself after witnessing such a violent scene. Murmurs of outrage and fear passed quickly amongst the people. Everyone began buzzing about again, moving in a flurry. Voldemort and Harmony hardly took five steps when a young woman suddenly slammed her shoulder into Voldemort's.

Harmony felt his body go tense and she watched with dread as he stopped in his tracks and shouted at the woman who'd hit him.

The young woman hardly looked older than Harmony herself. She wore an inexpensive corset dress and bare feet. Even though she stopped when Voldemort called her out, she didn't look at him when she turned around. She looked straight at Harmony and bowed, "My Lady." Without missing a beat, she straightened herself and turned to leave.

Voldemort's wand was out in a flash and it was pointed threateningly at the young woman. He ordered that she stop, and she did.

"I demand an apology!" he shouted. The anger in his voice sent shivers over Harmony's body.

"Why?" the woman replied with a snarl. "It wasn't an accident."

Voldemort gaped in outrage. He raised his wand to cast at her, "You insolent, little—"

"Wait!" another woman shouted. She came out from the crowd and Harmony immediately recognized Aislin's mother. She grabbed the snarling young woman and frantically hissed in her ear. She began pulling her away, bowing apologetically to both Voldemort and Harmony.

"She is not going anywhere!" Voldemort cried, following them. "Your impertinent behavior is punishable by death! Do you understand that, vile woman?"

"I understand perfectly," the young woman replied, getting herself another hiss from Aislin's mother. "I expected nothing else from the Great Murderer himself."

"I've heard enough!" he yelled and zeroed the tip of his wand onto her chest. Everyone waited with bated breath for the fateful flash of light that would send her into a fit of agony. But before it came, he abruptly spun around to Harmony who was watching him with trepidation.

"No," he barked. "You know what?  _You_  do it."

"W-what?" Harmony stuttered as she watched him drop his wand and step back from the young woman.

"Yes. I handled Barty's punishment for you when I shouldn't have. It's about time you learned how to handle our followers the right way." He pointed at the young woman. "Punish her."

Harmony gaped at him in disbelief. "Are you…are you serious?"

"Consider it another one of our lessons, I remember how well you liked our lessons. Now get on with it. Use the  _Cruciatus_  on her, cause her pain."

She scoffed and held up her hands, taking a step back. "I couldn't."

"What do you mean?" he asked harshly.

"I mean I  _can't_. In order to cast a  _Cruciatus_  you have to really want it, and I don't want to hurt her."

"But she disrespected me! Shouldn't that be enough?"

Harmony just shook her head with a horrified look on her face.

"If she had done the same to you, I wouldn't have hesitated to kill her," he said.

"Well, I'm not like you!" Harmony cried in reply and she immediately regretted saying it after seeing the look on his face.

He stared at her for a long time.

Aislin's mother had stopped trying to drag the young woman away and now a large, quiet crowd was gathering around to watch.

Voldemort's impatience had reached its end. He raised his wand at the young woman, who fell to her knees before them. "Punish her or I'll kill her."

Harmony gasped. "No!"

"Yes," he said through gritted teeth.

"Please!" she begged. "I don't want to do this!"

"I know you don't," he said, closing his eyes. "But you have to."

"No!"

"Harmony—"

"Stop!" she screamed, covering her ears and spinning away. "Please just stop. Why are you doing this to us? I won't do it. I won't. Just stop, please!"

He didn't force her to look back at them. From the ground the young woman called out in a lofty voice, "It's alright, my merciful Lady! It would be my honor to be at the other end of your wand."

Harmony shook her head and stared shivering violently. She refused to even look in their direction. She was aware of all the followers surrounding them, watching her and Voldemort with frightened eyes. The sight of their fear only made her more upset.  _How could he do this to her? What was the point to all this?_

Nothing happened for a minute and the wait became agonizing until she couldn't help but shut her eyes tight and brace herself for the wrath to follow. At first there was nothing. And then there was a flash of light. Even from beneath her hands pressed firmly over her ears, she could still hear the young woman's screams. When they were gone, she dropped her hands and looked over. There on the ground, the young woman twitched, alive. Voldemort was watching her expressionlessly.

Without another word, Harmony fled the scene, leaving the campsite behind for the seclusion of the tent in the forest. All the way there, she heard his heavy footfalls behind her.

She fell through the entrance, landing on the rug on hands and knees. The fire was blazing in the hearth, fragrant food waited on a pretty platter to be devoured, and music played softly from a portable record player in the corner. A perfect scene for a romantic evening.

When she heard the tent flap open behind her, she was quick to jump to her feet. He came in, looked at her standing there, and went over to warm his hands by the fire. She wondered why: there was already a red blush flaming his cheeks.

There was silence between them for a few, long minutes. The air was heavy with angry and passionate unspoken words. Harmony was ready to tearfully demand an explanation, when he beat her to the punch.

"You want to hear what happened to me this morning?" he said in a voice that was unusually calm, the kind of calm that could be shattered any second. "I was on my way over to one of the recreational tents to oversee an advanced Dark Arts lesson taught by Magnus when a young woman—much like the young woman we encountered this evening—bumped into me, right into my shoulder. Do you want to hear what she did? She took one look at me…and she walked away. Without a word! No apology! No respect for her Lord whatsoever. Just like the young woman we encountered tonight."

"What did you do?" Harmony asked breathlessly, fearing she already knew the answer. Her voice was hardly audible over the crackling of the fire.

"What do you  _think_  I did?" he said, looking over his shoulder at her. "Never before had I felt so disrespected by one of my own family, and in front of everyone! And I know what you're thinking: maybe she didn't recognize me, maybe she was distracted. But no…I'm telling you, there was disgust in her eyes when she saw me—just like tonight. And there are more like her here within the headquarters. I can feel it."

She remembered earlier when Aislin's mother admitted that her loyalty was with Harmony and Harmony alone, but she wasn't about to confess to him of such followers. Instead she angrily suggested, "Wouldn't this only be expected after the mass recruiting you've done? There are hundreds of them out there. A few bad eggs are to be expected."

He shook his head and began pacing. He spoke as though he had only been half-listening. "Never. Never had I ever been so disrespected. That is why they must be punished, so they understand how wrong their insubordination is." He looked at her straight. "That is why you must learn to punish them like I do."

She turned away from him, away from the warmth of the fire. "I won't kill them. I can't kill them."

"For me—"

"Not even for you!"

They stared at each other for a long time.

"I would do a lot of things for you," she began. "I'd endure the most painful torture, the most horrible you can imagine. I would risk my life. I would sacrifice every ounce of dignity I have left in my being! But I would never— _ever_ —murder for you!"

He raised his dark eyebrows, tilted his head, and said in a challenging tone, "Even if my life was at stake?"

She scoffed, looking away, and said quietly, "That's different."

"I don't think it is."

"Well, it will never come to that," she retorted irritably.

"But what if it did?"

"There's always another way! Killing isn't always the solution. There is  _always_  another way."

He looked at her a long time, chewing the corners of his lips as though trying to stop himself from speaking. But whatever thoughts inside him had to come out, and he spoke them softly. "I would kill the entire world for you."

Harmony was overwhelmed at the honesty of his words. She couldn't even meet his eyes when she replied, "Well, maybe that's the problem."

They both stood there in the tent, breathing heavily, standing too close to each other. When the tension between them became too much to handle, Harmony whirled around and dodged him to reach the entrance.

"Where are you going?"

"Wherever I bloody well please," she muttered under her breath.

"Tell me," he pressed, grabbing her around the waist so she couldn't leave.

"I am going to the party over at the recreational tents with the followers, like I wanted."

He snorted. "Like they're your equals?"

"Yes. And I'm going to enjoy every minute of it." She glanced down at the arm stopping her. "Now let me go."

"No."

She looked at him hard. " _No_?"

"You'll only encourage their rebellious behavior. They'll disrespect you. They'll disrespect me like they did today."

"No, they won't. They don't fear me. They  _like_  me. Now let go."

He wrapped his other arm around her and she flinched, pushing it away. He tried again by grabbing each side of her face and placing his lips none-too-gently on hers. She yelped aloud at his forcefulness and fought her initial desire to kiss him back. Suddenly he was picking her up and carrying her over to the bed. Harmony snapped out of her trance and immediately demanded that he put her down. He ignored her at first and laid her down on the bed, frantically kissing her neck. With a little help from her wand, Harmony sent a shock through her into him, making him jerk his lips away from her skin. She slipped out from beneath him and took a step away from the bed.

"Enough!" she said, her voice cracked with emotion.

He sat there with his mouth hanging slightly open, incredulous at her obvious rejection of him. He flexed his muscles, still feeling the effects of the magic she fought against him with. At first he looked up at her with uncertainty, but then he turned his face away. Harmony caught a glimpse of it turning a hot shade of red. From embarrassment? Shame?

Before he could get another word in, she turned away and quickly fled from the tent. She'd almost expected him to come after her, to pick her up into his arms and take her back inside. But she was alone as she ran through the forest. He didn't try to stop her again.


	41. Chapter 41

Harmony's hands shook as though she had just walked away from a violent battle. The adrenaline coursing through her body made her edgy, irritable, angry,  _afraid_. As she flew by the trees, as fast as her feet would allow, she threw glares over her shoulder into the densest of the forest where she knew he was. She kept expecting to see him there, following her, running to catch up and finish what they had started.

A part of her wondered if she should have obeyed his demands and punished that young rebellious woman. It would have been more merciful than the punishment Voldemort served. It would have saved them of this conflict. Right now, she could have been lying with him in their tent, having that romantic night they wanted—but no! Harmony quickly stopped that line of thinking.

 _She_  was right!  _Not_  him! Harmony was good to follow her gut and refuse his orders. She would never hurt an innocent person—not years ago when she was Hermione Granger, and not now. Not ever! Those curses were Unforgivable for a reason! She couldn't let Voldemort influence her in that dark way, despite her feelings for him. See this—! This was why she hesitated to reveal to him the truth about her pregnancy. He still wanted her to take over for him—as the Serpentine charm suggested—and he wanted her to do it  _his_  way. Her refusal to give in to his dark demands made her imperfect as a leader, in his eyes.

Would he see the child as a chance to make the perfect dictator? One that wouldn't hesitate to kill whenever he demanded it—where she had failed?

A tree root stabbing out of the ground was suddenly in her path and she almost tripped. Harmony straightened herself with a huff of frustration.

_How could he?_

Her hands bunched into gnarly, angry fists.

_How dare he ask that of me?_

Her feet stomped the ground with each step forward.

_Oh! He is so arrogant and vain and cruel and…_

A guttural groan ripped through her throat. But tears sprang up to cloud her vision, and suddenly she found herself crying.

Harmony placed two fingers at the corner of her eyes to staunch the flow of tears. She didn't want to show up at the party at the recreational tent looking all puffy-eyed and upset. After a deep breath in and out, the shaking in her hands subsided and she was ready to continue on her way.

When she made it out of the tree line, towards the hill that separated the forest from the campsite, her thoughts strayed to the next moment when she would see Voldemort next. What would they say to each other? What  _could_  they say? She recalled some of the words they'd exchanged before she'd fled out of there. But only one thing stood out from that argument. The words repeated themselves over and over in her mind, unwilling to let themselves be forgotten.

" _I would kill the entire world for you_."

There had been no love in his eyes when he had said that to her—no affection, no warmth. He had said it as though he was telling her the Earth was round. It was a simple fact. He'd do it. For her.

A shiver ravaged her body—not just along her skin, but deep down into the marrow of her bones. She was suddenly feeling confused, and maybe even a little bit afraid.

He would  _kill_  the entire world…

It hit her then just how significant his words were. The confession had come from the Dark Lord's own lips. How often does he really admit his true feelings? When has he ever told a Death Eater—or anyone!—something so vehemently loyal such as  _killing the whole world_  for them? Was there really no one else on this planet as important to him as her?

 _Maybe_ , she thought,  _maybe that was his way of finally telling me that he…_

The next word caught itself, reluctant to make itself known. Why did it have to be this difficult? Harmony shifted from one foot to the other and swung her head around so she was looking into the forest, where he was.

Was that the Dark Lord Voldemort's way of saying "I love you"?

A voice called out to her and she jumped, swinging back around to look up the hill. One of her handmaidens, the younger one, had just come out of the main tent with dishes in hand and was looking down on her.

Harmony waved. She climbed the hill and met her handmaiden at the top. The girl bowed, though she was encumbered by the heavy load of dishes in her arms. Harmony shot forward to take a stack of plates before they went crashing to the ground. Her handmaiden thanked her, but when she got a closer look of Harmony's face, she frowned and tilted her head.

"Are you alright, my Lady?" she asked, balancing a load of goblets in her arms.

Harmony's gaze shot down to the forest. She wiped a corner of her eye. "I'm fine."

Her handmaiden noticed. "The Dark Lord wasn't unkind to you, was he? Oh, I heard about what happened with that woman."

Harmony looked back at the girl. Her handmaiden's young face flushed deep red, and she looked away.

"I'm sorry, my Lady," she said. "That wasn't my place to say."

"It's okay." She quickly changed the subject. "I heard about a party happening tonight at the recreational tents. It sounded like fun. I thought I'd come over and take a look."

Her handmaiden's face lit up and she nodded enthusiastically. "That's right! Music, drinking, dancing. I was just heading over myself once I finished cleaning up here."

"Well, here," Harmony said, holding up the stack of plates. "Let me help you. We can go over together."

" _You_  want to help me  _clean_?"

"Why not?"

Her handmaiden shrugged. "As you wish, my Lady."

They carried the dirty dishes down the other side of the hill toward the campsite. At night, it made for a pretty sight. Beneath the wide spread of twinkling stars, warm fires and lanterns illuminated the countless caravans and colorful tents. Talking, laughter, and music rose up to fill the air. It was so full of life and contentment. Seeing it brought a little peace to Harmony's mind.

"Over here, my Lady."

They went to a line of water barrels and tables. Dirty dishes were already stacked high and on one end a group of people were scrubbing away with soap and brushes. The young women set their burden down on the table and the workers thanked them without looking up. The last thing they expected was to see the Dark Lord's heir helping out with chores, so Harmony walked away with her handmaiden unnoticed.

However, her anonymity didn't last long after they approached the recreational tent. People overflowed from the inside out, sitting or standing on the grass in large groups, holding their drinks and chatting. The first wizard who noticed her coming their way snapped to attention and bowed. Others followed suit and soon everyone outside the party was showing their respect.

From the outside, the large recreational tent—shaped like an octagon with a red flag at its peak—was a beacon of soft yellow light in the nighttime. Shadows of the people inside played through the canvas. Live music poured out from the tent flaps tied back to keep the easy flow of people coming in and out. The second the two young women stepped inside, her handmaiden was swept away by a handsome man and a full goblet was pushed into Harmony's hand. She brought it up to her nose and took a whiff. The sharp scent of alcohol singed her nose hairs, and she set the drink down on a busy table nearby. Before it had even hit the tabletop, the drink was snatched up by another enthusiastic partygoer.

At one end of the tent was a stage where the musicians played wizard rock songs. Right then, they were playing the familiar "This Is the Night" by The Weird Sisters. A mass of followers danced before them, holding their arms up in the air, jumping up and down to the beat. On the other end of the tent was a stack of barrels, big enough that if Harmony wrapped her arms around one, her fingers would barely meet. A steady stream of followers, cups in hand, poured themselves hard ale from the tapped barrels. On the table beside them was a pail of water. Harmony made her way over to it.

She squeezed around the occupied tables and benches. When she excused herself and asked to get past, people glanced at her, took and double take, and leaped out of the way. A wooden ladle bobbed in the pail; she used it to pour water into a fresh goblet. When it was full, she took a drink. The liquid was warm and a little stale, but still a better alternative to the ale.

Her attention was immediately captured when she caught someone saying a name she hadn't heard in what felt like forever.

"Haven't you heard what Harry Potter's up to?"

It was coming from one of the tables off to the side. It was completely full of people, so Harmony went over to stand behind a chair and listen in.

"After the Escape of Menkar," said an older wizard with faded blue robes, "he returned to Hogwarts to help them establish some kind of advanced dueling program."

"It's intended to train the students for combat," a blonde witch added. "Real combat."

"The Battle of Hogwarts got them scared," said another. "They're training those kids right up for an army. Just like us."

"Not like us. We've got some mentors already teaching Unforgivable curses to our students."

The older wizard sighed. "Yes, I'm wary of that. I've got two teenagers being taught here."

"Teaching the Dark Arts may be our only way to get ahead; that is, if the Ministry really  _is_  training their kids to help with the fight against the Dark Lord."

"All the same, the Killing curse is one spell my children don't need under their belt."

"This is a time of war. Just look at the current Minister of Magic: Rufus Scrimgeour, former Head of the Auror Office. An  _Auror_  running our government! It's no wonder Hogwarts is turning into a soldier-making machine. And he's got Harry Potter helping him with it."

Harmony listened with a heavy heart. She couldn't imagine Hogwarts being anything like it was here at the Dark Lord's headquarters.  _Advanced dueling program?_ It really was a time of war. She listened closer as their subject moved on to other matters, particularly regarding Muggle-borns.

"Not long ago, there were rumors the Dark Lord was making plans to have insiders at the Ministry of Magic infiltrate a new order to have all Muggle-borns registered and interrogated. A…Muggle-born Registration Commission, I think it was to be called. It's never gonna pan out now, though, is it?"

"Why do you say that?" asked the older wizard.

"Don't you know?" said the blonde witch who sat with her back to Harmony. "Our Lady's a Muggle-born. It's obvious he's infatuated with her. Degrading and eliminating Muddle-borns isn't one of his hobbies anymore. He's probably scared now that Registration Commission would piss her off—hey!"

One of the companions sitting across from the blonde witch had hit her in the chest with an empty goblet. Once they got her attention, they pointed over her shoulder to Harmony standing behind her. When the blonde witch looked, she blanched and sprang up from her chair. Several others did the same, and they all bowed to her.

"My Lady, I…I," the blonde witch stammered.

"You're right," Harmony said before the witch could apologize. "I  _am_  a Muggle-born. He  _is_  infatuated with me. He  _doesn't_  care about Muggle-borns anymore. And that  _would_  piss me off…" She gave them a little smile. "You've said nothing wrong."

A couple of them laughed lightly and returned to their seats when Harmony beckoned them to. The blonde witch offered Harmony her chair and she took it.

"What do you think, my Lady," the older wizard asked once he had taken his seat. "If I may ask, what are your thoughts on the matter of Muggle-borns in the wizarding community? I would assume you are supportive, but with the Dark Lord as a mentor…well, you never know."

"I am, of course, supportive," she answered. After thinking a moment, she continued, "If I had the power to do so, I would abolish all pro-pureblood groups. As we've seen, they've caused the Wizarding World nothing but trouble by spreading fear and destruction. Muggle-borns would, obviously, be given equal rights as purebloods. Our government has progressed well over the years, but discrimination against them is still an issue, as I've seen firsthand at Hogwarts School. Any intolerance would be entirely prohibited. It is a fact that there is no difference in magical capabilities between a Muggle-born and a Pureblood."

"Of course," said one of her table-mates, waving a hand over her, "you are proof of that. You are arguably one of the strongest witches in our world."

There was a murmur of approval and Harmony blushed at the compliment.

"With your parents being Muggles, you must also sympathize with the non-magical community, yes?"

"More than that," she said, taking a drink of her water. "I think both communities should be more involved with the other. This world doesn't belong to just us. My parents, although non-magical, embrace my capabilities." She smiled sadly at the memory of the Grangers. "They always have. And they wouldn't be the only ones. Both sides need the other in order to thrive. Most wars in the Wizarding World have been due to the belief that magical peoples are superior."

"Although I see what you're getting at, some would argue that Muggles—because of their lack of magic—are of no use to us. In a way,  _aren't_  we superior?"

"In a way, yes," she replied. "But like I said, both sides need the other; because although Muggles are non-magical, they are powerful in their own way…I believe it is the only way to have peace."

The table was silent a moment, then the older wizard commented, "That sounds like a very idealistic cause, my Lady, if I may say so. Very ambitious."

"Idealistic it may be," said another at the table, "but any cause striving to attain peace is always a cause worth fighting for."

"If you'll pardon me," said the blonde witch, "but many people would consider combining the magical and non-magical communities as dangerous thinking. Surely the Dark Lord does not share your ideals."

Before Harmony could reply, another person cut in, "Of course he wouldn't! The Dark Lord wants complete control over every community, regardless of magical capabilities. And he'll get it, too, with our help."

Harmony considered this. It was true that Voldemort's sole ambition was to gain more power, more followers, and more control. But…to what end? His anger towards Muggles—due to his father, Riddle Senior—had fueled him for quite some time. But with that anger subdued thanks to her, what was driving him? Perhaps he did have some ideal he was striving for, or maybe...maybe it  _was_  simply the journey to attaining power he craved. Once he had everyone under his thumb, once there were no more lands to take over, rebels to kill, or governments to overturn, what would he want then?

She remembered that dream they had shared not so long ago—the one Aislin had been in—where the whole world was burning, and Voldemort had killed everyone and everything until there was nothing covering the Earth but ash.

_I would kill the entire world for you._

Perhaps that nightmare wasn't too far from reality.

"Look at us," said one of her companions who lowered their voice so only those in the group could hear, "we've got a former Auror on one end and a power-hungry wizard on the other end. War is inevitable. The world deserves better than this, don't you think?"

Everyone voiced their approval, and then the older wizard spoke:

"This world doesn't just deserve better, it deserves a good leader, one that won't command our children onto a battlefield."

Thoughtful silence fell among the group, and then—one-by-one—their gazes turned onto her.

Harmony's eyes popped. Meeting each one of their hopeful looks, she suddenly wondered if this group of people she'd been talking to was a part of her rebellious loyalists. She quickly looked away, taking a long swig of water.  _No pressure, no pressure, no pressure…_

"My Lady—"

Harmony shot up from her seat, casually observing the dancing area over all their heads. "My, that looks like fun," she said, her voice shrill with suppressed emotion. "I think I'm in the mood for a little dancing. Anyone wish to join me?"

Before anyone could reply, she was already gone.

Harmony escaped into the mass of dancers, trying to forget what their gazes had implied. Their faith in her was frightening, unanticipated, and in some way…flattering. She didn't like the idea of rebels among Voldemort's followers causing trouble in her name. But at the same time, when they all looked to her with optimism and in their eyes, a pleasant warmth had filled her. Helping people was in her nature, but being a leader wasn't. She was unaccustomed to it; Harry Potter had always been the one to take up that end.

But she didn't come to the party to dwell on such heavy matters. She needed to digest all of this new information and clear her mind.

Moving to the rapid beat of the bass and drums, Harmony was embraced by the crowd. She joined them, raising her arms above her head and jumping up and down. No one danced with a particular partner; they all danced as one throng, enjoying the music and the passion. It stank of sweat and ale, but she didn't mind. She liked having the company.

A youth, whose face she couldn't make out, grabbed her hands and twirled her around what little space they had. He placed her hands on his shoulders and she danced with him. While he spun her about to the rhythm of the music, she looked over his shoulder at the party surrounding them. The lanterns floating above their heads were dim, providing them with privacy. On the outer edges of the dance floor, however, the lanterns shone bright. Much of what she saw was simply dancers and more dancers, but then she caught a break in the bodies to the edge of the dance floor. There by the tent canvas, standing with one leg resting up on a bench, was Barty taking a large gulp of his ale. It was no surprise to see him there getting down his favorite drink, enjoying the sight of all the pretty girls. But something else caught her attention.

The mousy man she remembered from earlier—the one who had revealed to Voldemort what Barty had done at lessons and taken blame for it—walked up to the dark-haired Death Eater and spoke to him. Of course Harmony couldn't make out what they were saying over the roar of the rock music playing on stage. She assumed he was telling Barty about Voldemort wanting to meet him later to formally serve his punishment, and she waited for his face to contort with fear. However, it never did. Quite the opposite, actually.

Instead of paling in terror, Barty clapped the man on the shoulder, smiling smugly, and reached into his jacket pocket. Harmony couldn't see what he took out as he handed whatever it was to the mousy man, who had his back to her. The man seemed pleased, though, and left after putting the thing in his pocket. Barty watched him go, then took a long draft from his ale. When the goblet came down from his lips, his black eyes met hers.

A pause.

Then he smiled and winked.

She narrowed her eyes in suspicion, until the youth twirled her around again. The world spun and when it stopped, she looked back to where Barty was standing, but he was gone.

He showed up moments later on the dance floor, not far from her. She lost sight of him now and again. Each time she caught his eye, he was always grinding lewdly with a different woman. Their eyes always met—brown to black—and it never failed to make him grin.

As the night went on, everyone was becoming steadily rowdier from the excessive amounts of alcohol. In the back, by the kegs of ale, came a roar of approval. Harmony tore her eyes away from Barty and looked to see a woman climb onto one of the tables, moving her hips seductively to the music. The crowd's approval only seemed to fuel her passion as she then began stripping away each layer of clothing. It caught the attention of the youth she'd been dancing with, and he left to get a closer look.

Suddenly—like the flip of a switch—the atmosphere of the party changed. The air became charged with excitement and lust. Couples appeared out of nowhere, kissing and dancing so close their bodies intertwined. Men of every age—emboldened by their intoxicated minds—fought to catch Harmony's eye. Some made sexual gestures that made her blush.

Space opened up on the dance floor, and she was thinking it was just about time to leave when burly arms came out from behind and wrapped around her body. She couldn't see their face—they held her firmly against their thick chest—but she could smell the stale stench of ale on their breath when they pressed their unshaved cheek against hers.

Her first thought was of Barty, but when she loudly rejected his advances, he replied in a voice she didn't recognize.

"You know you want it, pixie."

"How  _dare_  you?" she snarled.

He pressed his face into the crook of her neck and took a long inhale of breath. "You smell so pretty. Like lavender."

"Oh! If the Dark Lord saw you now—!"

"—well, the Dark Lord isn't here, is he?"

"Don't make me hurt you!"

He laughed and thick, hairy hands came up to stroke her breasts.

"Leave her alone, Pavos," a woman said as she strode up, wand drawn. Harmony recognized her to be the very same young woman that had insulted Voldemort earlier, the same one Harmony had refused to cast a  _Cruciatus_  on.

Pavos swore at the woman, telling her to get lost.

"I can't do that," she said, "not when you intend to harm my Lady."

"Don't get your wand in a twist," he slurred. "We're just having a little fun."

 _Ugh_ , Harmony thought as she tried to wrench herself free from his grasp,  _he's just like Barty._

"Really?" the young woman asked dubiously. Her eyes went to Harmony, who vehemently shook her head. "You're outnumbered, Pavos. Just let our Lady go and things might not end poorly for you."

"Like hell I'm outnumbered," he growled. His loud, guttural voice made Harmony's ears ring. "I could take you and duel your pretty little face into the ground!"

" _Really_?" the woman said again, only now it had a violent edge to it, as though challenging the man to try something. "You really think you can take on  _all of us_?"

She opened her arms, beckoning to the crowd surrounding them and out of nowhere people singled out, wands drawn, to stand beside the witch. Every man and woman, young and old, in this singular group cast Pavos murderous glares. And with each person who stepped out, his hold on her loosened.

"Do you think you can treat our Lady like any one of your girls?" the young witch continued, now looking stronger than ever with the guard of witches and wizards on each side. "You forget, Pavos. Our Lady is no ordinary woman. She has an army on her side."

Pavos' arms released her and he took a couple steps back. Harmony spun around as he was fleeing from the tent.

"Wise choice," the witch muttered, pocketing her wand.

The people that came to her defense now trickled back into the rest of the crowd as though nothing had happened.

"That was fantastic," Harmony said, holding out her hand.

The witch took her hand and gave it firm shake. She said her name was Lyra. "He should've known better, that man. But he's one of the original Death Eaters; has no respect for anyone except the Dark Lord and himself. Anyway," she smiled kindly and bowed, "think nothing of it. If you ever need help, I'll be there, along with my friends."

"That's very kind of you. I…" Harmony dropped her voice and it overflowed with sincerity. "I am so, so sorry about what happened today."

The smile never left Lyra's face. She shook away her Lady's apologies and laughed. "Oh, my Lady, no words can express how satisfying that was. I mean, did you see the look on his face! Those pretty blue eyes of his were ready to pop out his skull! If I could do it again, I would do it a thousand times, and happily endure the punishment."

"But it's dangerous," Harmony stressed. "Not just because of Voldemort, but because of his most loyal followers. They'll give you hell for mistreating him."

"Too right," Lyra sighed, but still smiled. "I had a couple pranks up my sleeve I planned on serving that pasty-skinned troll—"

"Oh no!"

"But I promise to do as you say," she finished, holding up her hands. "I'll back off if you wish."

"Thank you," Harmony said with relief. "You know, Voldemort can act cruel sometimes, but he's not as bad as he used to be."

Lyra grumbled.

"He  _had_  changed his mind about killing you."

"True. Thank heaven for small mercies, I suppose."

The women exchanged heartfelt goodbyes before going their separate ways. Harmony still wanted to get out of there as soon as possible. The atmosphere was still excited with lust, and now more women were joining the first on the tabletops by the ale kegs. Better leave before another incident occurred. As she left the recreational tent, men watched her, their eyes roving over her body. She looked around.

 _I wonder where Barty is_.

He wasn't anywhere in the tent that she could tell. The spectacle with her little "army" probably scared him away. That thought made her smile.

Harmony didn't feel like going back to the tent just yet, not while she was still mad at Voldemort. She had used defensive magic to stop him from having his way with her. Never before has she not returned his intimate advances; he was probably just as confused and upset as she was. They both needed a little more time to cool down. So she started walking—not to anywhere in particular—but when her feet stopped moving, she found herself standing before the waterfall in the forest where they bathed. The mist off the water was refreshing after the hot confines of the party in the tent. She slipped off her shoes and soaked her sore feet in the cool water. Mud and sand squelched up between her toes. The chill air cleared the fog from her mind, and she contemplated the evening.

The surprise mention of Harry Potter and her parents left her feeling lonelier than she had felt in a while. Voldemort was all she had here, but after what happened tonight? Her heart ached for the warmth of companionship. She wanted to curl up on the couch between her mother and father and bond over their favorite Masterpiece Theater on TV, like they used to whenever she had a bad day. Weeks ago—felt like years—she promised she would send a message by Patronus to her friends, just to let them know she was okay.

She  _could_  do it now, but…they wouldn't want to hear from her, anyway. The fact that every Auror in the Wizarding World watched her escape Voldemort—at least who they  _thought_  was Voldemort—from execution at Menkar probably didn't make her one of their favorite people, especially with Harry Potter.

Her parents, however…

Harmony whipped out her wand and planted herself firmly on the ground with the water up to her ankles. She closed her eyes and thought of a happy memory: celebrating Christmas with her family, the smell of parchment. Among the many images, one slipped in of Voldemort perched above her while they lay in bed. He looked down at her with heavy lids, smiling. His face came down and right when he kissed her, the Patronus came to life from her the tip of her wand.

Keeping her eyes closed, she whispered the message she wished to send, filling every word with love and yearning. It was a simple message, enough to let them know she was alright. Once finished, she flicked her wrist to release the light from the tip.

Then she opened her eyes. And her whole body went cold.

What she saw floating in the air was not  _her_  Patronus. At least, not what it  _used_  to be. Her corporeal Patronus took the shape of a playful otter. But this wasn't an otter.

It was a snake. And it shared an exact likeness of the Serpentine charm. About five feet in length, it slithered through the air illuminating the water with bright blue light. She watched it go with her heart in her stomach, feeling like the very last bit of innocence she once had was now gone.

How could this be? How has it changed? Was it the influence of the Serpentine charm? Or was it something else?

Patronus forms were known to change, but only if the caster had experienced some kind of emotional upheaval. Particularly…falling in love.

Her snake slithered through the air, over the water, up the shore, and into the forest. But right as it went through the three line, its blue light lit up a face hidden in the bushes.

Harmony started and gripped her wand tight.

"Who's there?" she shouted into the darkness.

At first, nothing. Then the bushes shook and a figure stumbled out into the clearing. It was Barty, but he wasn't alone. A couple—man and woman—came out after him. Both appeared to be Barty's age, and all three of them were dreadfully drunk. They laughed at her wide-eyed look. The couple then started stripping off all their clothes and with whoops of glee, they splashed into the water.

Her body was tense, preparing itself for some kind of fight. But her Serpentine charm remained soothing as it slithered over her skin. They posed no threat to her. So Harmony sat on the shore, tucking her legs beneath her, and watched them. Barty collapsed into the rough sand beside her. He spread his legs before him and lounged back on one elbow. She could tell by the way his eyes had trouble focusing on her that he was intoxicated.

"I left the party so I could get away from you drunkards," Harmony said, watching as the couple pushed each other behind the curtain of the waterfall.

He shrugged one shoulder, his head rolled. "We lost interest in the other trollops."

"So you followed me instead."

He snorted with laughter then drowned it in his hip flask. After a swig he said, "Not that I'm calling you a trollop—ah, damn. That came out wrong." He bowed his head but lost balance off his elbow and his head fell into her lap. "Apologies, my brave, benevolent, _beautiful_  Lady."

She wove her fingers into his filthy, mangy hair. Then she snatched it up, lifted, and dumped his head on the ground.

"Thank you, Lady," he slurred with his face in the dirt.

The couple was no longer in sight. The mist and the curtain of water flowing off the cliff face concealed them. Harmony looked over at the tree line where her Patronus had disappeared to, as it now made its way to her parents' home in London.

"Barty?"

He grunted, jerking his head up off the ground.

"What shape of animal does Voldemort's Patronus take?"

He breathed out heavily and she could smell sour ale on his breath. "Hell if I know. I've never seen it. Don't know if anyone has."

"Why is that?"

"Well, he's never needed one, has he? All the dark creatures it protects you against are already under our control." He sniffed. "I don't even know what  _my_  Patronus is. But that's for a different reason. You know, you hear rumors. One of my fellow Death Eaters tried to cast one but only maggots poured out the end, started eating him alive."

"That's horrible!"

"It was hilarious!"

Harmony ignored his manic laughter, looking out on the water shimmering in the moonlight. As he lapsed into silence, she pondered. Maybe no one knew what Voldemort's Patronus was, but she figured—given his obsession with being a descendent of Salazar Slytherin—it would be a snake. And now hers was a snake as well.

"What I'm so curious about is," said Barty, perching himself back up on an elbow, "why you're not cuddling up to Voldemort right now. It's getting late. I'm sure he's missing his favorite little bed-warmer."

Harmony heard something strange in his voice. He almost sounded  _annoyed_. She looked down at him beside her; the expression on his face was hard as stone.

"There is trouble in paradise, isn't there?" he continued. "You two are having a lover's tiff."

She looked away and gave a half-shrug. "All couples have arguments. He sees doing things one way. And I see doing it another. He wants me to use Unforgivable curses against the followers—"

"But you can't," he finished, "because…because you're just so  _good_ , aren't you? I'll bet you don't have one wrathful bone in your body. So unlike Voldemort. How  _can_  you stand it? How can you stand  _him_? Why do you even stay?"

"I have no choice. I must stay at his side—"

Barty swore violently at her, making her flinch.

"Of course you have a choice." The stone-hard look in his face eased and he smiled at her. "Just like I chose to make you mine."

Harmony clicked her tongue at that. "Even though he would kill you the second I told him you've ever touched me."

Barty threw a hand up in the air. "Exactly!"

She scoffed lightly. "I don't know why I haven't told him already."

"Of course you know. You're a clever witch. You don't reveal my lustful intentions towards you to our Dark Lord because deep, deep down in that sensuous body of yours…you want me."

That actually made her laugh.

Barty's smile widened. "It's the truth. Isn't it?"

"Far from it."

"Ah, come on."

"You know," she said, glowering down at him, "I used to feel threatened by you. But now I see I never had reason to. You're absolutely helpless."

He held up an index finger. "But not hopeless."

"Get off it. I don't like you."

"When did  _liking_  each other have to matter?"

She stood up and wiped sand off her dress. "Do yourself a favor, Barty, and find yourself a girlfriend. Preferably one that can keep you in line and out of my hair."

He grabbed her hand as she turned to leave. "I've got plenty of women."

"Then choose one of them!"  
"But I'm not in love with them."

They stared at each other for a long time. All the humor was gone from his face again. His sweaty hand gripped her so hard it hurt. Everything except the roaring of the waterfall was silent; even the couple's whoops of glee muted.

Harmony shook him off. "You're drunk, Barty," she said. "If you really loved me, you wouldn't be so cruel."

" _I'm_  cruel?" he said bitterly. "I only learned from the best."

She knew he was talking about Voldemort. "You don't know him like I do."

He startled her by jumping to his feet. He took a few drunken, awkward steps to the side, but eventually righted himself. Harmony stood firmly, anticipating an attack.

"I knew how he'd react if he found out you'd failed to punish me."

"What?" She took a couple steps away. He was standing too close.

"That's right," he said smugly. "Earlier, when I saw how happy you two were—holding each other, laughing—I figured ' _well, he must not know what happened_.' So do you know what I did? I sent that man over to enlighten our Dark Lord."

Harmony gaped at him. Then she remembered at the party in the recreational tent; while she was dancing, she saw Barty talking with that mousy man. Barty had given him something. Now she put the pieces together.

Her voice was low and breathy when she forced out the words. "You…you  _paid_  him to tell Voldemort I'd failed to punish you?"

He pushed his face in close. "That's right. And I was there when it happened, hiding in the crowd." He gave a terse laugh. "You should've seen your face."

" _No_."

"That's right, I did."

A fiery hot anger boiled up inside of her. She pushed her hands into his chest as hard as she could and shouted, "Barty! NO! How could you?" She pushed again and he nearly stumbled back into the sand. " _Why did you do that?_ "

"I was doing you a favor!"

"How do you call  _that_  a favor?"

"Because I know what a good little angel you are," he said derisively, "but  _he_  doesn't. The sooner he understands how unfit you are to have the Serpentine charm, the better it will be for everyone."

Harmony spun around, unable to stand the sight of him. When she turned back, she gripped her hair to keep herself from punching him in the face. "Have you made it your life's goal to destroy my relationship with Voldemort?"

"I am faithful to the Dark Lord. Hell, I used to be his most loyal follower…but then you came into the picture. And he just  _had_  to have you, didn't he?" Barty took a wide step closer. He still wavered a little on his feet, but all the yelling sobered him. "I'd be a better man for you than him. I know the  _real_  you. You wouldn't have to pretend around me."

"So that's it then," she said, her voice broken in anger. "You don't really care about who has the Serpentine charm or anything. You're just jealous!"

"At least  _I_  won't force you to kill," he said, and his black eyes flickered down to her pouting lips. He abruptly leaned in to kiss her, but Harmony dodged his eager mouth and pulled out her wand.

"Don't touch me!" she cried. "Don't even talk to me. I don't want to see your face again. Do you understand?" She made a threatening motion with her wand. "If you try anything with me ever again, I  _will_  hurt you."

Barty looked like he was ready to challenge that, but Harmony turned and fled before he could even try. She left him standing there with a look of betrayal on his face. Escaping the clearing, the forest welcomed her into its shadows. She dodged between the trees—heart racing, breathing heavily—knowing full well that that wasn't going to be the last time she saw Barty. But for now…there was only one place she needed to be.

The tent in the forest was lit up like a beacon. Its warm yellow light welcomed her, and she could already feel the warmth of the fire blazing inside. Before pulling back the tent flap, she stopped and took a deep breath. Sweat trickled down her brow, and she wiped it. Once she stepped inside, the harsh words they'd exchanged wouldn't matter anymore. They would embrace and apologize and kiss like nothing had happened. That was all she wanted in that moment.

But when she burst into the tent, full of anticipation and expectancy, she was sorely disappointed at what she saw. No one was inside. She checked the bed; nope. She looked in their living area; no one. The fire was still blazing—as he always liked it to be—but no person was there to enjoy its warmth. Harmony stood in the middle, looking around the lonely space forlornly.

He probably left in case she decided to come back; he still wanted to be alone.

She plopped down on a velvet cushion in the living area, biting her bottom lip to keep from crying. After a minute, she took a few bites of fruit off the food platter left from earlier. An hour slipped by—maybe two—but still no Voldemort. It came to the point where she started to worry about him. It was silly, really. It wasn't like anything bad could happen to him; he could take care of himself. But still…she worried.

Her eyes grew heavy and she nodded off once or twice. Finally she stood up, stretching her arms over her head, and yawned. She had to accept that there was nothing she could do. If Voldemort wanted to be alone, then so be it; she would be here when he was ready to talk.

Stripping down to her underclothes, Harmony laid down in their bed. Despite the warm temperature inside the tent, she enveloped herself in the blankets. Both hers and Voldemort's scent mingled in the sheets. Something musky and sweet at the same time. She laid her head on his pillow, took a deep breath, and felt comforted.

She fell asleep to the smell of him all around her.


	42. Chapter 42

Harmony was graced with a dreamless sleep; up until the end, at least, when she heard rummaging noises around her bed. A loud  _clank_  and she jerked awake. It dawned on her then while she perched up on an elbow, rubbing the sleep from her eyes, that she hadn't dreamt the noises. Someone was inside the tent with her.

The tent flap was open an inch. From it she could see it was already morning. A curtain concealed her from the rest of the tent, so whoever it was she couldn't see. A chest by the kitchen creaked open on its hinges followed by a furious ruffling of clothes. The chest snapped closed, a heavy footstep, and then another loud clang as the person bumped into the full platter of fruit she had snacked on last night. An assortment of grapes, pears, and cherries scattered in a mess across the floor.

The man swore.

"Hello?" Harmony called out, her voice groggy with sleep.

The rummaging stopped.

A pregnant pause, and then a familiar hand wrapped around the edge of the curtain concealing her before tugging it aside.

Harmony wanted to sigh with relief but the breath caught in her throat when she stared up at Voldemort.

He hadn't slept a wink. That much was certain by the black bags under his eyes. His shirt was wrinkled and the scent of dirt came off his trousers, almost like he had spent the night in the forest. In his hand he carried a fresh change of clothes and a bar of soap.

Surprise flickered across his tired features. He took in the sight of her lying there in her thin underclothes—the blanket kicked aside, revealing her soft thighs—with her perched above his pillow. He glanced over and saw her own pillow had been left untouched.

By the look on his face, she knew he hadn't been expecting to see her there, much less lying comfortably in their bed. She swallowed hard, looking up at him from beneath her bangs, and tried to think of what to say. Her mind went blank at what they had fought about last night—something about punishing the followers?—but she remembered her conversation with Barty, about his betrayal and his revelation, and she remembered the desire to be back at Voldemort's side that followed soon after.

And now that she was, she was at an utter loss for words.

Yes, he hadn't expected to see her there but he didn't look displeased by it. In fact, his blue eyes softened at the sight of her in this vulnerable state. Harmony sat up on both her hands and a strap of her underdress slipped off her shoulder. Voldemort's hand twitched, his initial reaction being to fix the strap. But he blinked hard and turned away before he could.

"Get dressed," he said with his back to her. "Meet me at the main tent on the hill in fifteen minutes."

"What?" she uttered, frowning.

He returned to his rummaging, picking up the rest of the clothes he needed and stopped every now and then to pluck a piece of fruit into his mouth. "There's a new group of followers ready to be brought into camp. We can't tell them  _how_  to get here, of course, because that information could reach unwanted ears, so I have trusted Death Eaters meet them at a designated location and guide them here." He voice then became edged with annoyance. "Usually, my services are not required with these standard pick-ups, but I happened to find the team assigned to it blacked out in drunken stupors on the floor of a recreational tent. Seems they'd celebrated a little too much last night.  _So_ …after letting them know just how much I  _appreciated_  their lack of accountability and punctuality, I formed another team—albeit a less capable one—and now I must go with them to make sure the job is done right."

She scooted to the end of the bed so she could peer at him around the curtain. "You should have it handled, then. It sounds to me like you don't need my help."

Voldemort stopped what he was doing, but didn't look at her. "I  _don't_  need your help," he said, "I  _want_  it."

Harmony's stomach flipped.  _He wanted her…_

Like he could also sense the importance behind his words, he shrugged nonchalantly and added, "Damn it all if I have to deal with those amateurs alone. You have more patience for them than I do."

Before Harmony could question him any further, Voldemort made a bee-line to the entrance of the tent and was gone. She listened to his retreating footsteps until they vanished into the forest. After a deep breath to quell her sudden excitement, she slipped out of bed and grabbed clean clothes. What she picked out was the very same black corset, shirt, and trousers she had worn for months while serving as Voldemort's new Death Eater at Riddle mansion. They had been starting to stink at the bottom of her sac and it was a relief to toss them off to her handmaidens to be laundered. With them in hand, she also grabbed her lavender soap, threw on a cloak, and then left the tent.

After all she'd been through last night—especially after partying at the recreational tents—she was in dire need of a bath. Following the familiar path through the forest, she found her way back to the waterfall. Although everything was already damp with morning dew, the mist off the water made the air bitingly cold in a way that wasn't unpleasant. She welcomed the roar of the falls; it drowned out her thoughts.

As she passed through the final line of trees, she looked down at her cloak to unfasten it. After looking up again at the waterfall before her, she stopped cold in her tracks. The sight she was met with made her heart jump up into her throat.

Voldemort was already there, standing in front of the cascading waterfall lathering soap onto his wet body.

When they had bathed there before, he had always worn trousers—supposedly to keep his decency in such open scenery and she had done the same by wearing her underclothes. But now…

Harmony swallowed hard.

 _Now_  he stood there bathing himself completely naked from head to toe. The water came up mid-thigh, but other than that every inch of him was bare to the elements. The soap made his pale skin slick and shimmery in the dim morning light. With his hand covered in suds, he lathered up his toned arms, around his neck, over his chest, down his hard stomach…

Breathless, a hot flash ravaged her body.  _Oh, he was perfect_.

Before he could spot her there, gawking at him, Harmony jumped behind a tree. Leaning against the rough bark, she peered around to continue watching. Suddenly, she was feeling a little shy. Voldemort wasn't expecting to see her; perhaps that was why he was bathing in the nude. And the emotions procured from last night's fight were still raw. There was the possibility he was still angry at her. If she showed herself, would he be displeased?

For a moment she considered sneaking back into their tent to change. A wash could wait until later. But she stopped herself before turning away.

What was the matter with her? She had seen Voldemort naked several times. After those nights they had spent together, she was almost as familiar with his body as she was with hers. Why was she suddenly feeling shy  _now_?

Harmony looked back at him.

Why should  _she_  be the one to leave?

If he didn't like it, he could deal with it.

She stepped out from behind the tree and unfastened her cloak. It fell in a puddle of fabric at her feet. With lavender soap in hand, she stepped up to the water's edge. He had yet to notice that he wasn't alone. She watched him for one tense moment before taking the hem of her underdress, slipping it up and over her head. The white cotton slip was tossed onto the shore and Harmony went into the water as naked and bare as he was.

Within seconds her skin was coated in a layer of mist that sprayed up from the falls. Goosebumps riddled her every pore. When the biting cold water came up to her thighs, Harmony gasped.

Voldemort's head jerked up at the sound. Hand froze mid-lather over his abdomen. His eyes widened at the sight of her— _all of her_ —approaching him near the waterfall. Harmony bit the inside of her cheek to hide her satisfaction at the look on his face. How many people in the world could say they caught Lord Voldemort by surprise, in the nude none the less?

"You…" he said.

"Were you expecting someone else?" she teased.

He didn't answer, only stared. His eyes flickered down the length of her body. Hand was still frozen mid-lather, like he'd forgotten what he was doing. Although his face was blank, Harmony could tell by other means that he was pleased by what he saw.

She blushed and hid her smile. Wading by him, she went on the other side of the waterfall; it concealed her from him like a curtain. Looking through it, Voldemort was only a rippled figure through the rushing water. There she began doing her bathing. Dunking into the water until she was submerged and popping back up completely drenched. The bittersweet scent of lavender filled her lungs as she produced a generous amount of bubbles between her hands and washed them onto her body. Using her fingernails, she scrubbed and scrubbed until her skin turned pink. Taking a fresh batch of suds into her hands, she worked at the roots of her hair. Her eyes drift closed and a moan of contentment flowed past her lips. It was so nice to get clean, to wash away all that had happened last night; all that sweat, betrayal, stale beer smell, and bitter words. When she dunked into the water, the dirty soap washed away and Harmony resurfaced feeling afresh.

Squeezing water out of her hair, she looked back through the waterfall.

Voldemort was no longer on the other side.

She glanced around her private space beneath the falls, frowning.  _He must have finished first and left without me_ , she thought. She had to suppress her disappointment. There had been the hope that after seeing her maybe he would have wanted—

Cold hands grabbed her arms from behind and spun her around. Harmony yelped as she was held up against his soaked body. Voldemort's skin was cold in places and hot in others. Rubbing up against her, his stomach was still slick with soap smelling like cinnamon, patchouli, and cloves. He moved his face in close but didn't kiss her, only stared down at her with a wild expression.

"What're you...?" Harmony asked in breathless anticipation.

None-too-gently, he pushed her up against the rock wall and pinned her there with his powerful arms on either side of her head. He gasped for air as though he'd been drowning; his breath blew hot on her face. His look was a muddle of frustration and lust. Intense eyes devoured every pore of her face with an insatiable hunger. Any second now his lips would come bearing down on hers. But he remained restrained, just like he had restrained himself from fixing the strap of her underdress. However, that self-control was quickly waning.

It became evident to her then that no matter what happened between them, no matter how furiously they fought or how angry they became with one another…they would never be able to ignore the intimate bond they shared. Even if he hated her for it. There were some things she would never do, even for him. Although she was the lover to the most dangerous wizard in the world and leader to an army of Death Eaters, she still had moral lines left to cross. But—as she looked up into his ravening eyes—she knew there were  _a lot_  of things she would do for him, too.

To test the waters Harmony tilted her chin up, reaching her lips out to meet his. Voldemort's gasp caught in his throat. Open mouth, no sound coming out. The tips of their noses grazed. Before the kiss could be fulfilled, he pressed his narrow hips into her lower body, resting on her against the rock wall. The rough texture cut into her back and buttocks, but she didn't care. One of his hands left the side of her head to caress down her waist, over her hip, around her thigh, and behind her knee. In one motion, he hitched her leg around his hip and pushed inside her. Harmony gasped and Voldemort caught it in his mouth.

He watched her face as it creased in pain and then slowly eased into heavenly bliss.

Harmony's heavy-lidded gaze swiveled up to meet his.

 _You have no idea what you do to me_ , his eyes screamed,  _you have no idea how much you make me lose control…_

It had only been a couple nights since they last made love. He acted as though it had been a century. His other hand came down to greedily stroke her breast, and her back arched into his touch. With each eager thrust of his hips, a low groan escaped his throat into her mouth until the sounds they made mingled. She slipped her fingers round the back of his strong neck and explored his mouth with her tongue. Bodies were pressed flush against the other, their skin slicked with soap and water. Her back was on fire; the rhythm of his movements chafed her ceaselessly against the rock wall.

He had begun slow, easing into her a little more with each push until his entire length filled her inside. The hand stroking her breast descended along the ridges of her ribs to her stomach and rested finally at the apex of her thighs, where their bodies connected. His long, pale fingers lovingly caressed her there and it elicited a cry of surprised delight from the young woman beneath him. This aroused him even more and he started to increase his pacing. He hardly drew an inch before he was completely within her again.

Her senses intensified, every bit of her scorched with invisible fire. Inside her was like a balloon swelling more and more, fit to burst any moment. Heart pounding, breathing hard, kissing became too difficult to gasp in the air she desperately needed. Their lips parted, his mouth immediately went to the crook of her neck and she wrapped her arms round him in a death embrace. She was drowning, drowning, and she  _loved_  it.

Sweating and panting, their united passions escalated until their movements were almost violent. The buildup became too much to bare. Both their bodies tensed when they reached their peak. He surged into her one last time, and stars burst behind Harmony's eyes.

His weight collapsed on top of her, his gasps louder in her ears than the roar of the waterfall. Her body shuddered from the leftover adrenaline. Thinking she was shivering from the cold, Voldemort enveloped her in his arms to warm her up. Her lids drift closed and—smiling— she nestled her face into his shoulder.

Caught up in their passionate love-making, the pair had been oblivious to all that was around them. It wasn't until afterword when Harmony became suddenly aware that someone was calling out to them.

"My Lord!" shouted a voice that was vaguely familiar. Harmony's mind was still too foggy to be sure.

Voldemort meekly raised his head at the sound, but like her he was still recovering before he could respond.

"My Lord!" The voice was closer this time. A man's, different from the first.

Out of the corner of her eye, Harmony spotted movement.

"My…Lord?"

Her tired eyes spun around to see. She nearly screamed at the sight she was met with.

A couple Death Eaters, one of them Mag, had found their way around the clearing to where they could spot the couple beneath the falls against the rock wall. Both men stood stationary to the ground with looks of utter disbelief on their faces. The second Mag must've realized that  _Yes_ ,  _it was indeed the Dark Lord and Lady having sex underneath a waterfall_ , his beady black eyes bulged from his head.

Startled out of her haze, Harmony yelped and covered her breasts with her arms. This jerked Voldemort aware and he followed her terrified gaze. Initially stunned by seeing his men, it quickly wore off to replace itself with affronted anger. His hard eyes narrowed into a razor-sharp glare. He growled at them in a threatening tone that would have turned anyone's blood to ice.

"How  _dare_  you gaze upon your Lady while she's in such a state!?"

The Death Eaters flinched and fell over themselves in apologetic bows. They tried to explain how worried they became when their Lord took longer than he'd said to arrive at the main tent, that they came to check on him. But Voldemort hardly let them get five words out.

"Show her respect! Turn away! NOW!"

Mag immediately obeyed. The other also did so only after screaming in fright and tripping over his feet trying to get away. They were gone as fast as one could Apparate.

Harmony burrowed into Voldemort's chest, her face hot with embarrassment.

"Oh my god," she said in a pain-filled whisper.

"Those boggarts are going to pay," he muttered, rubbing her arms in comfort.

After a bit of imploring from Harmony, Voldemort gently removed himself and went out to grab her clothes while she stayed hidden beneath the waterfall—just in case there were any more Peeping Toms lurking about. Shivering, it was suddenly so cold without his body heat keeping her warm; she embraced herself in an effort to amend that.

Now a pitiful mess of quivering limbs and humiliation, all she could think about was Mag telling the other Death Eaters what he saw. Frankly she was more embarrassed about him seeing her nakedness than him seeing them entangled amid their love-making. Everyone already knew she and Voldemort shared a bed. But what if he went into detail about how his  _kind_  and  _merciful_  Lady's body looked. What if that information reached unwanted ears, specifically Barty's damned ears. She was sickened by the thought of him listening in and imagining just for himself how she looked unclothed.

When Voldemort returned with her clean, dry clothes, she swiftly slipped on her shirt and left the water. A quick glance around to make sure no one else but Voldemort was watching, then the rest of the clothes came on next. The trousers bit made her wince; the space between her thighs was still swollen and sore, but she preferred it to wearing the green dress. Voldemort did the same beside her, pulling on his usual black attire. His hair—that gloriously attractive black hair—was still wet and he wore it slicked back against his scalp.

Harmony had finished first, but when he looked up from his cloak clasps he saw her staring at the ground in mute humiliation.

"Your face is as red as a vampyr mosp," he commented in a rare attempt to be lighthearted.

She raised her eyes to him, but didn't smile.

His broad shoulders drooped, and he took her by surprise when he stepped up and enveloped her into a comforting embrace.

She couldn't remember the last time he'd hugged her. In fact, had he ever?

Maybe he was just trying to bolster her spirits so she didn't appear meek and reserved in front of their followers. Maybe it was his way of finally apologizing for his cruelty from the day before. For whatever reason he felt compelled to hug her, Harmony ardently welcomed the rare show of affection by burying her blushing face into his chest and wrapping her arms round his waist.

Their fight from yesterday was forgotten.  _For now_.

 _If_ this _is how we're going to settle our differences,_ Harmony thought,  _then I wouldn't mind being a little more argumentative in the future._

She giggled lightly. He pulled away to looked down at her in question, but she shook her head. Let him think it was his hug that had cheered her.

Voldemort took her hand and she let him guide her away from the waterfall into the forest where an urgent mission awaited them.


	43. Chapter 43

She had faced three-headed dogs, Dementors, and a devilish horde of Cornish pixies. She had fought Death Eaters and Aurors alike. She had survived her OWLs. Fought a troll. Tamed a giant. Been brought to the very brink of death…

And she would have gladly done all of that all over again if it meant she didn’t have to walk into the Main Tent where their followers were waiting. More specifically, where Mag and the other Peeping Tom were waiting.

As she and Voldemort strode out of the forest and up the hill towards the tent, she feared the worst: that those two had shared the explicit scene they’d saw with the other Death Eaters. Perhaps they were all laughing about it now like a bunch of raunchy school children.

Just seeing her naked alone would have been embarrassing enough. But with their Dark Lord, entangled in each other’s arms, sweaty and panting…

“Oh, gargoyles,” Harmony groaned, covering her face with her hands.

Voldemort looked over his shoulder at her. He stopped to wrap an arm around her waist.

“Don’t fret, my dear,” he said. “If anything, those two will be jealous they weren’t me.”

“Oh, stop.” She playfully slapped his stomach. “Horrible.”

“It’s not so bad,” he coaxed into her ear. “It’s only natural, is it not?”

She shrugged one shoulder and kicked the wet grass with each step. “That may be so, but what if they mock us behind our backs?”

“Then they’d be fools!”

Harmony didn’t reply.

He stared at her beside him for a quiet moment.

“Then let them,” he reiterated more calmly.

She looked up at him.

“It doesn’t matter what they say,” he said. “If it’s behind your back, then it isn’t important. Don’t let them have that power over you. If you show them that it’s no big fuss then they will eventually follow your lead.”

Harmony nodded, finding strength in his words. Then she smiled.

“Now you’re starting to sound more like me,” she said.

He let out a laugh. “You certainly have your moments,” he agreed.

Pointing up on her tip-toes, she placed a kiss on his freshly-shaven cheek.

When they reached the Main tent, Harmony slowed to a stop just short of walking in. The tent flaps were closed—billowing softly in the morning breeze—but they were still alone.

Voldemort sensed her reluctance and sighed before saying, “If it really upsets you that much, then it’s alright if you want to go back—“

“No,” she said firmly. “I’ll go. I’d have to at some point, wouldn’t I? I won’t hide.”

He pursed his lips to obscure a pride-filled smile and stepped up to the entrance.

“Very well.”

He disappeared between the tent flaps, and after a deep breath, she followed.

A hush suddenly fell when their presence became known. Eyes cast to them. Bodies turned to give their fullest attention. It was a group of maybe fifteen people, most of which Harmony didn’t recognize. A young group. Some looked like they had hardly graduated from Hogwarts. She looked each of them in the eye and saw fear. That was when she spotted Mag.

He stood half-hidden behind a tall, muscular Death Eater as though hoping it would protect him if Harmony or Voldemort felt the urge to attack. His normally pallid complexion was blotchy with violent shades of magenta, his lower lip swollen from nervously chewing on it with sharp teeth, black eyes darted around to everywhere but her. His obvious discomfort gave her confidence, and when his gaze frightfully fell onto her, she held it.

Harmony mustered a rather sinister smile that said: _Yes, that’s right. I see you_.

Mag’s eyes bulged and he darted back behind the bulky Death Eater.

“You lot are not my best and brightest,” Voldemort began. He added with a bitter downturn of the mouth, “Not magically, anyway. No, my _best_ and _brightest_ were found blacked-out sloshed on the ground, hardly able to lift a wand. Some of you were witness to just how well I took this sight.”

There was a unanimous shiver around the room as they recalled the memory.

“You lot, however, are the finest I have able right now. And we have a new follower pick-up that is scheduled in the next fifteen minutes, as well as a supply pick-up succeeding it. Your Mistress and I,” he glanced at Harmony, “will be there to lead you.”

He informed the group on the locations of the pick-ups. The first was in a Muggle town not far from London and the other was within a forest in the countryside. Only two or three of the people present were familiar with the locations—Voldemort has been careful with whom he had shared that information with—and they were going to have to resort to Side-Apparition in order to make this work.

Voldemort wrapped an arm around her waist, bringing her needlessly close to his side, and Harmony took the hand of a Death Eater standing beside her. Around the room, followers were linking up, and when Voldemort gave a nod, groups Apparated with a _snap_.

Voldemort’s Apparition sucked her in like a black hole with the Death Eater she was gripping on to close behind. All of their matter melded into one multi-colored mass for a split second before they were spit out of the other side, landing in a place that was far from camp.

It was only mid-morning, so the town was still quiet and lethargic save for one or two Muggles leaving home early to open shop. But when those few captured the sight of the group of cloaked figures appearing out of the fog, they scattered like mice. It was smart choosing a Muggle town to do their work. If they were caught, the worst Muggles could do was call the police, an obstacle that could be easily handled.

Voldemort hesitated a second before retrieving his arm from around her waist. He took lead of the group and his followers did what they did best. Harmony stayed close to his side, casting her gaze warily around their surroundings. She hadn’t forgotten the last time she had joined him on a mundane mission. It had been back at Riddle mansion, after she spent that first night in Voldemort’s bed. They went to pick up the Vanishing Cabinet in Knockturn Alley. At the time, Harmony had been clueless to the fact that it was going to be used to infiltrate Hogwarts and ultimately lead to the death of the great Albus Dumbledore. That was back when she was hell-bent on stopping Voldemort’s plans and bringing about his demise.

Harmony looked at the man striding confidently in step beside her.

_My, how things change._

They were led to a large house in the heart of town. Voldemort knocked three times, and after some scurrying sounded behind the door, it opened a crack. A wide green eye blinked out at them. After a second to take recognition, the door flew open and an old woman was there to welcome them. She neither smiled nor grimaced at the sight of the witches and wizards. She merely stepped aside, giving them room to enter. When they passed, Harmony caught Voldemort pressing something into the old woman’s palm, but she didn’t catch what it was. The woman pocketed it and disappeared up a set of rickety stairs without a word.

They didn’t follow her upstairs; instead Voldemort led them to a door in the back of the house which opened to stairs going down. Black mildew ravaged the walls near the baseboards, giving off a stale, musty scent. Dimly lit sconces scantily illuminated their way down into the cellar.

It looked more like the way into a crypt, but the sounds that sprang up from down below were exactly the opposite. Easy talking, laughing, the padding of little feet. It almost sounded like a party. Voldemort waved her forward to let her take the lead. Going down into the warm, welcoming light, Harmony was surprised by the sight she was met with at the bottom step.

Women and children—families of all sizes—were standing around in groups with stacks of luggage gathered at their feet. It was like a little piece of how it was back at camp. A child playing tag with her friends stopped short of the stairs where Harmony and Voldemort stood, and she pointed a little finger in their direction.

“Look! It’s Voldy’s wife!”

 The father was quick the pull the child into his arms while every eye in the cellar turned to the stairs. Excited gasps and whispers followed before everyone folded into a respectful bow, save a couple of the children who were jumping up and down with their hands in the air.

Voldemort announced his welcome and Harmony did the same with a kind smile. He gave the group the usual orientation, such as what was to be expected of them when they arrived at camp and what rules that entailed. When finished, he beckoned to the Death Eaters behind him and they guided the people out of the cellar in an orderly fashion. Voldemort and Harmony stayed below where they could greet every one. To him, they bent a knee and silently accepted his outstretched hand. To Harmony, they showered her with comments of hope and enthusiasm; most of the children avoided their intimidating Dark Lord, but happily gave her a hug when she offered it. There was one child, however. A sweet little boy of about three years of age with sandy-blond curls and an innocent smile. When it was his turn, he didn’t hesitate to grasp Voldemort by the knees in a loving embrace. Voldemort was taken aback by the show of sudden affection. When the boy didn’t let go—only buried his face further into the folds of his cloak—Voldemort looked around for help. His blue eyes met Harmony’s, who was trying to hide a smile behind her hand. At her silent bidding, he turned back to the boy, and after a hesitation, patted him gently on the head. The boy released him, only to move on to Harmony. When he and his family passed to go on up the stairs, she slipped her hand into Voldemort’s and gave it pride-filled squeeze.

Once everyone was outside, they came upon the crowd just as the Death Eaters were casting the _Portus_ charm on a stack of planting pots. A group of about twelve gathered around each one and took a hold of the clay edge. From the side, Harmony watched as they spun into a whirlwind and disappeared up into the sky with a blur. They were being taken to the forest near camp where Death Eaters would be waiting to guide them the rest of the way.

The next task on their list was a simple supply pick-up and required fewer helping hands. With Voldemort’s arm wrapped around her waist, they Apparated to the next location, appearing at the mouth of a cave near a roaring river. It was a place Harmony had never seen before. In the shadows of the dank cavern, a stack of barrels and crates piled six feet high was guarded by a couple more Death Eaters who each awaited them with torches in hand. Voldemort went over to them, accepting a clipboard that was handed to him. He looked it over while a dark-skinned Death Eater wearing a black duster coat spoke urgently.

“Begging your pardon, my Lord,” he said, keeping eyes downcast, “but we’re running out of _charitable donors_ to continue giving us goods.”

“I made a deal with Heinbeck,” Voldemort corrected. “Protection detail for an endless supply of provisions.”

“Well, that detail has recently gone AWOL. We haven’t heard from them since yesterday.”

Voldemort studied the man’s worried face.

“Something’s off,” the Death Eater said in an ominous tone.

Voldemort motioned for him to calm down. “I’ll deal with it.”

He nodded, backing off. The other Death Eater spoke then, “Your new followers are waiting just outside the cave, sir.”

Voldemort’s head shot over to him. “I made no plans to pick up followers here.”

“Oh,” the Death Eater stumbled back a step and he stuttered, “I-I thought you knew. They said they were looking forward to joining.”

Voldemort drummed his fingers on the back of the clipboard then swung around to face Harmony who still stood at the mouth of the cave.

“Greet them for me, my dear. You have a better talent with this sort than I do.”

Harmony nodded and left the dankness of the cave for the fresh air. The group of new followers stood in a clump some distance away from the entrance. Arms crossed and heads bowed, they showed a fear that Harmony was accustomed to seeing in the Dark Lord’s old Death Eaters—the ones who were forced to join under threats of death. She walked up to them arms raised in a gesture of friendliness. She wanted them to know that they needn’t be afraid of her. At the sound of her approach, their heads shot up like startled deer. However, their posture relaxed when they saw her, possibly after recognizing who she was.

A middle-aged woman in dark green robes stepped forward and bowed her head.

“Hermione Granger.”

“Well,” Harmony laughed, “I haven’t been called that to my face in a long time.”

“Do you mind?”

“No. It’s just strange, is all.”

“Would you like me to call you something else?”

Harmony thought about it.

“No,” she said again with a little shrug. “I don’t mind.”

She scanned the cluster of new followers. They were different than the first group picked up in the Muggle village. There were no children, no laughter or playing. There was no hopefulness in their eyes, only an intense sense of duty. Every group was different, she supposed.

“Is the Dark Lord with you?” the woman in the green robes asked while looking over Harmony’s shoulder.

“He’s in the cave, looking over the new arrival of supplies.”

Followers exchanged excited glances.

“He’ll speak to you soon,” Harmony continued, “but let me be the first to say ‘Welcome.’ Our number of followers grows stronger every day and I personally like seeing such good, passionate people becoming a part of it.”

“How very kind of you,” the woman said with a tight smile.

“When do we get to see the new headquarters?” asked a young man standing within the cluster of witches and wizards.

Harmony looked to him.

“Soon,” she said with an encouraging nod.

A few Death Eaters came out of the cave, and like before, they cast a _Portus_ charm on a random object—this time on a length of rope. New followers gathered around it, and while standing shoulder to shoulder, made up about half of the group.

“I’ll get some more rope,” volunteered a Death Eater before turning back to the cave.

At the other Death Eaters’ direction, the followers grabbed on to a section of the knotted twine and they whirled up into the sky before disappearing with a _crack_ like a whip. The remaining half of followers were less chatty than the first and Harmony stood there with them in silence until the Death Eater came back with another length of rope.

“Here,” he said as he gave one follower an end and began stretching it out. People came forward to take a bit of it in their hand. The Death Eater went along, making sure they had a firm grip. But then he stopped, looked at one of the followers, and frowned.

“Don’t I know you?” the Death Eater asked.

The follower he spoke to was a man with greying hair, wearing a leather three-piece suit. He was short and stocky and looked ready to jump out of his skin when the Death Eater stopped in front of him.

The man shook his head, lips pursed. “Nah, don’t think so.”

“You sure?” the Death Eater asked, wagging a finger at him. “I know I’ve seen you before.”

The man shrugged and glanced to other followers for help. When no one spoke up, he shrugged again, looking increasingly uncomfortable.

“Huh,” the Death Eater grunted. “I was so sure.”

He turned away to continue down the line, but stopped again after three people. His posture went ridged, shoulders up, fists clenched. Slowly turning back to the man, he spoke in a harsh tone.

“I _have_ seen you.”

“What?” the man choked out.

“Yeah…The Battle of Hogwarts, it was.”

The Death Eater went back in front of him and Harmony noticed he now held his wand at his side. Jaws clenched, anger rising, he went on:

“We were out in the courtyard, dueling like madmen. I had just finished off an Auror with a good, swift Killing curse before running over to join my mate. He was battling his own Auror. But just before I reached him, a blasting curse shot him right in the chest. His dead body crumpled in my arms. That goddam Auror…that was _you_. I couldn’t forget your stubby little face!”

The man he was shouting at stumbled back a couple steps with shock written all over his features. But that shock quickly turned to something alarmingly sinister.

Then Harmony felt it—although subtle at first—an unpleasant pressure started slithering up her arm. By the time the pressure reached her shoulder, it hurt like a white-hot brand pressed onto her skin. Harmony gasped when she realized.

 _The Serpentine charm_.

It was reacting to an impending danger nearby. Someone wanted to hurt her.

Her eyes went wide and looked over the group again. She noticed how many now held their wands with their now-threatening gazes turned onto her. With a startling flash of red light, the Death Eater was immobilized and Harmony was all alone.

She spun on her heel to the direction of the cave, already pulling out her wand. Voldemort’s name came screaming out past her lips the very second he came sprinting out of the mouth of the cave. A look of anger, disbelief— _almost fear_ —distorted his handsome face. He must have sensed the Serpentine charm, too, when it was activated. Their eyes met and without saying a word, they came to the same conclusion: _It’s a trap!_

Voldemort didn’t hesitate to pull out his wand and wave a spell over Harmony’s head to the restless crowd of invaders behind her. She didn’t see how it affected them, but it was met with shouts of panic and pain.

She and him gravitated towards each other and didn’t stop until their wandless hands were grasping the other like lifeboats lost out on a stormy sea. At once, her Serpentine charm eased.

“Are you alright?” he shouted while his blue eyes searched her body up and down for any sign of harm.

“Fine!” she replied, turning to face the violent crowd. Some witches and wizards were running around, trying to flank them. “We need cover!”

“The cave!” He grabbed her hand. “Cast a _Cascadia_. Quick!”

She could already feel magic surging from his hand into hers. It gave her a sudden burst of power and together they cast a _Cascadia_ that exploded from them in a flash of blue light. It knocked the intruders nearest to them off their feet before fading away. The short distance to the cave felt like an eternity to cross as they ran while fending off the spells and curses aimed at their back. Green flares burst from the tip of Voldemort’s wand, and red from hers.

Once inside the safety of the dank cavern, Harmony cast a _Protego Totalum_ over the entrance to hold off the intruders and their spells.  Panting, she looked around and saw a couple Death Eaters cowering in fright behind the crates of supplies. Voldemort was over to them in an instant.

“Fools!” He jabbed his wand at them and they began screaming, their faces distorted with unimaginable pain. “How could you be so _stupid_ as to let Aurors in under your very nose!? Do you think this is a game? Were you simply too lazy to check them?”

They fell to the dirty stone floor, writhing, as though ready to curl into themselves and die.

“Enough!” Harmony shouted.

Voldemort released the _Cruciatus_ with a pout, like a little boy spoiled of his fun.

“You can waste time punishing those to blame once we get out of here _alive_!”

The Death Eaters straightened themselves and gave Harmony a grateful look when their Dark Lord’s back was turned.

“Very well,” Voldemort said, pointing to the crates of supplies. “Everyone grab something. We’re going back to camp.”

Outside the cave, Aurors were casting at Harmony’s _Protego_ charm with unrelenting force. Some even beat at the shield with angry fists. Harmony wasn’t sure how much longer it was going to stand.

She took hold of a couple wooden crates smelling like spices and dried meats. Voldemort did the same and then held his hand out to her. When she took it, they spun into a black hole and came out on the other side with a _snap_. They were back at camp on the edge of the forest. There was another _snap_ heard deep within the trees as the Death Eaters Apparated with their own burden of supplies. She and Voldemort were preparing to Apparate back to the cave for another pick-up when they heard shouts and the unmistakable hiss of spells being cast.

They exchanged startled glances, and it was then Harmony remembered the first half of “new followers” they had sent in by portkey at the cave. All new followers were supposed to be guided in by Death Eaters as a safety precaution. The impostures, a group of about twenty, were heading towards camp at that very moment. If they found the exact location of Voldemort’s new headquarters—if any of them got away and revealed the location to the Ministry of Magic—that would be the end of Voldemort’s hard work. The followers still needed more training; if the entire Auror force the Ministry possessed attacked the camp, would they be able to defend themselves? What about all the children?

At once, Harmony and Voldemort went running into the forest toward the sounds of fighting. The thick branches and leaves blocked out most of the sunshine and within the shadows were the familiar flashes of wand lights. They approached a large black lump lying at the base of a tree. After a closer look, Harmony withheld a gasp when she recognized it to be one of the Death Eaters from the cave. His eyes were open but empty and lifeless.

“Come on,” Voldemort urged her.

They found the center of the fighting near a small meadow—the designated location for the portkey to bring the new followers. A group of Death Eaters had been waiting to take them into camp, but they had somehow been tipped off and now all hell was loose.

They hid behind a tree for a moment to take in the scene. There were more Death Eaters, but where the Aurors lacked in numbers they made up in finesse, and things were quickly evened out. 

“What utter bullocks,” Voldemort hissed under his breath.

“Hush,” Harmony chided him. “Let’s put an end to this.”

“Right behind you, my dear.”

They ran out of hiding, wands ablaze, and scared the wits out of a couple unfortunate Aurors in their path.

“Leaping Gargoyles!” a witch screamed out, making other Aurors turn heads. “It’s them!”

Voldemort put her down with a rush of green lightning.

After the woman’s outcry, Harmony and he became the center of attention. They stood back-to-back, deflecting blows and casting curses in unison. While the Aurors surrounded them, the remaining Death Eaters flanked their enemies to apply the pressure.

The same moment she deflected a red spell, a fiery burst of orange light came flying at her. She stepped aside at the last second and the blasting curse uprooted the grass with a shower of dirt. In response, she cast an _Expelliarmus_ but their wand hardly left their hand before they used a summoning charm to bring it back. These Aurors were terrifyingly good.

“You know, dearest,” Voldemort shouted over his shoulder to her while simultaneously fighting off four Aurors, “This would all go so much quicker if you only used my favorite little curse.”

“No,” she shouted back, casting a _Stupefy_.  

“ _Avada_ …,” he said, casting the Killing curse with each word for emphasis, “… _Kedavra_.”

“ _No_. We’ve been over this.”

“Indeed. I remember out little fight quite vividly. I just…want to be sure you can _do_ it.”

“Of course I can do it,” she shouted. “Anyone can do it with the right state of mind. That’s not the point!”

“Then what, pray tell, is your point?”

“It’s wrong to take someone’s life! You steal away their very essence. It’s not only bad for them—it’s bad for _you_! Every time you take a life away, your very soul gets chipped away. Can’t you feel it? Like a part of you is missing?”

He didn’t reply for a moment, then:

“What nonsense…”

“It’s not. You know it isn’t.”

“It’s quick and efficient. Easy.”

To prove his point, flashes of emerald green light flew freely from his wand, without him needing to even utter the words.

“It shouldn’t be,” she replied almost sadly. “It requires the strongest desire to cause death. I hope one day it becomes hard for you to cast the Killing Curse.”

Voldemort snorted but he didn’t sound displeased when he commented, “You and your soft heart.”

“I know.”

And that was that. He didn’t bring it up again and Harmony continued casting her _Stupefy_ ’s and _Expelliarmus_ ’. The Aurors’ numbers dwindled with each _Avada Kedavra_ he casted. Dead bodies were beginning to pile up around them.

“Go retrieve more supplies,” he shouted to her amongst the commotion. “We need to get them before the damned Auror fools do.”

“What?” she replied in shock. “And leave you here alone?”

He laughed aloud, casting a wave of power that swept three Aurors off their feet. “I think we both know I can handle myself.”

Harmony felt a twinge of worry, but relented. After sending one last _Stupefy_ , she Disapparated back to the cave. Her Shield charm over the entrance had worn off and two Aurors were investigating the containers of supplies. Outside, the sound of dueling could still be heard.

The Aurors spun around in surprise at Harmony’s sudden appearance, and she knocked them off their feet with the wave of her wand. They hit the cave wall and fell to the ground unconscious. She latched on to two boxes with red plus signs painted on their sides, and then Apparated back to the meadow where the fighting still violently took place.

She caught the attention of several Aurors and Voldemort took advantage of their distraction. But this, in turn, caused a distraction for him, and as if on cue, five Aurors collectively sent a curse which hit him square in the back.

Voldemort gasped, blue eyes going wide, and he fell to his knees.

Harmony’s heart stopped. She dropped the boxes and sprinted to his side. Her hand went down to touch the back of his neck while the other waved her wand at their assailants. She thought she felt blood on him, but it could’ve been sweat. Either way, an unexpected anger flared up from somewhere deep within her. She had never seen Voldemort cut down like that before in a fight. Seeing him gasping on his knees was such a strange sight that it frightened her.

She found herself thinking: _How dare they?_ _This is Lord Voldemort, the father of my child. If they think they can take him away from me, they’re dead wrong_.

Voldemort watched as she furiously came to his defense, casting spell after spell at anyone who dared to come close. It was obvious in his face that his pride had been hurt, but while he watched her—watched the way she desperately protected him—it brought a warmer look into his eyes.

He struggled to his feet—one hand holding his back—and with gritted teeth he rejoined her in the fight.

They quickly fell into a routine. She distracted while he killed. It worked efficiently, and it wasn’t long before they were down to their last Auror. Voldemort gave her a nod and she cast a _Stupefy_ at him. The red light enveloped their remaining enemy and his whole body froze. Voldemort ordered for the surviving Death Eaters to drag him into camp and restrain him in one of the tents.

“You’re going to torture him, aren’t you?” Harmony asked, wrapping an arm around his waist for support.

“I prefer the word ‘interrogate,’” he replied, holding on to her in return. “We need to know how he and his Auror friends knew about the supply and follower pick-ups. It there’s a dirty little snitch among my ranks, I’m going to find out about it. And I’m going to deal with it in the way I know best.”

She pitied whoever that “snitch” might be.

“Here,” she said delicately, “it’s going to take a while for the stunning spell to wear off him. Let’s go check out that wound of yours while we wait.”

Voldemort grimaced when he touched his back—though he tried to hide it—and nodded.

They returned to the waterfall for the second time that day and sat themselves on a couple rocks on the shore. He undid the clasps of his black cloak, tossed it aside, and she carefully helped him take off his shirt. A fiery red slash marked down his back between the shoulder blades.

Harmony hissed. It looked painful.

“What is it?”

“A burn, I think,” she replied. “It looks like you got hit with a Conflagration spell. Totally fixable. We’ll just need more salve brewed up.”

“Lovely,” he groaned. “Why is it I always get burned when I’m around you?”

Harmony snickered. “An unfortunate coincidence.”

She dipped the hem of her dress into the cold water and pressed it to the red blisters.

He let loose a moan of satisfaction.

“You like that?”

“That’s lovely,” he sighed.

She leaned forward and kissed the crook of his neck. “How about that?”

“Definitely,” he chuckled.

They were quiet for a moment while Harmony periodically dipped her hem back into the water and replaced it over the wound.

“You know,” he said in a thoughtful tone, “we make a good team.”

She thought about them dueling together earlier, standing back-to-back.

“We _do_ , don’t we?”

It was followed by another lengthy silence.

“About our fight last night…” he began softly.

She quickly stopped him. “Let’s not dwell too much on it—“

“I’m not talking about punishing the followers,” he said. “I’m talking about what I did to you afterwards in our tent. When I kissed you…”

“Oh.”

“You didn’t like it.”

“I was angry with you.”

“I forced myself on you.”

“And you stopped…with a little convincing.”

“But that’s the thing,” he said, turning to look back at her over his shoulder. “You had to use magic against me to stop me from doing something I thought we both wanted at the time.”

“I _do_ like it when you kiss me,” she assured him. “I like it _whenever_ you touch me. But like I said: I was angry with you.”

But the second the words were out of her mouth, she then understood his confusion.

“Oh, I see,” she said quietly. “I’ve never rejected you before, have I? Whenever you’ve wanted me, I’ve wanted you too.”

“I crossed a line last night,” he admitted. “I did something I shouldn’t have.”

“Yes,” she said. “But you understand now. It has to be something we _both_ want. If I say ‘No,’ then stop. It’s that easy.”

He gave her a questioningly look. “What about this morning…?”

She smiled. “Oh yes. I wanted you, too.”

He leaned in and there was a smile on his lips when he kissed her. His muscles tensed beneath her fingertips, and she felt his need to go further.  Harmony had to force herself to pull away. He frowned, but she soothed him with a smile.

“Do you remember our plan from last night to have a little relaxation period?”

His lips stretched into a giddy grin at the memory.

“Let’s still do it,” she said. “Why not? After all we’ve been through today and every day we’ve known each other, I think we need a little break. Away from here. Away from the followers…I remember how much you _enjoyed_ our time at Shell cottage. Maybe we could do something like that again. We could spend the day on the beach somewhere away from prying eyes, just the two of us.”

From the look on his face, she could tell he liked the sound of that. But he shook his head.

“We’ve just been under attack. Now is not the time for fun.”

“We stopped all the Aurors,” she reminded him. “And if the Ministry sends any more, it’ll be to the supply pick-up at the cave, away from here. The camp’s location is still a secret.”

He sighed, beginning to give in to the temptation.

“Sandy beaches,” she crooned with a sultry look, “bomb fires, stargazing, _late night skinny dipping_.”

Voldemort smiled and she knew he had relented.

“Alright,” he said, holding up his hands. “But only for one night— _after_ we’ve checked up on our Auror captive.”

Harmony smiled.

“I’ll go pack.”


	44. Chapter 44

While Harmony was back at their tent, filling a couple sacs with a change of clothes, Voldemort returned to her with news that the hostage was still under the influence of the Stunning spell. A Veritaserum potion would take too long to make, so the unfortunate Auror would have to be interrogated the old-fashioned way once he was ready, and a team of blood-thirsty Death Eaters would be there waiting for him.

“That might take some time,” Harmony said to him, grinning. “So you see? You won’t miss a thing.”

She revealed her plan to go to a seaside location her parents once took her on holiday. They would need to side-Apparate there and visit a Muggle town nearby to pick up supplies before heading to the beach. As a precaution, they grabbed a couple vials of Polyjuice potion and found hair from willing followers; Harmony got hers from one of the younger handmaidens. When they were ready, they slung their sacs over their shoulders and held hands.

Harmony pulled Voldemort into her Apparition and they were zipped out onto the other side. Immediately, they were hit with a wave of hot air and sweat broke out on their brows in seconds. They were standing on a hill, overlooking a small coastal town with white cobblestone streets and bright yellow and blue buildings decorated in climbing ivy and red flowers. A glittering blue ocean stretched out in the background.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” she said as memories of when she was there last with her parents overwhelmed her.

While she was distracted by the view, Voldemort took his first gulp of Polyjuice potion. Looking back at him, she gasped, taking a step away. The beautiful blue in his eyes was replaced with black and his hair grew out, brown and mangy. Out of all the followers he could have acquired a hair sample from…it just had to be Barty’s, didn’t it?

Just her luck.

Harmony grimaced at him and swallowed back bile. Voldemort must have noticed her sour look because he asked with a concerned frown, “What’s wrong?”

It was strange hearing Voldemort’s baritone voice coming out of Barty’s mouth.

She shook her head and turned away, crossing her arms. “It’s nothing.”

He looked down at himself. “Barty Crouch Jr. is one of my better looking followers. I was thinking you might like that.”

 _Oh how wrong he is_ , she thought.

“There is no one as handsome as you,” she said as a reluctant smile forced its way onto her lips.

He returned the smile in a way only Voldemort did, but it was strange seeing it with Barty’s face. Whenever Barty smiled it was wide, toothy, and threatening. He then waited for her to take her Polyjuice potion before taking her hand. His fingers felt thick and calloused, not like his own hands which were slender and soft. The feel of them reminded her of Barty’s rough touches; on her face, her neck, tearing at her clothes—

Harmony tore her hand away, pretending to adjust the pack on her shoulder.

She wondered if it was a coincidence, if Voldemort had asked for Barty’s hair personally, or if Barty had earnestly offered it when Voldemort went searching for a sample. Harmony was inclined to believe it was the latter. Barty, that damn man, must have wanted to remind her of their last night’s conversation. About how he was a better man for her than Voldemort, and about how he _loved_ her.

 _That infuriating drunk_ , she thought.

“Are you sure you are alright?” he asked, watching her out of the corner of his new black eyes.

“Yes,” she replied a little too fast. “Let’s go get supplies.”

Together, they strolled into town and filled a basket with food bought at the busy marketplace. Harmony discovered that as long as she didn’t look at Voldemort’s new face directly, she was still able to enjoy his company.

They perused one of the little tourist shops; Voldemort was buying towels as Harmony wandered into the bathing suit section. She fingered the spaghetti straps of a black bikini; it was more revealing and sexier than anything she owned. She thought of how fun it would be to surprise Voldemort on the beach, wearing this. With a giddy laugh, she pulled the bikini off the rack. After making sure Voldemort was waiting outside the shop, she bought it and put it on beneath her clothes in a changing room before returning to him.

Once they were ready, they returned to their spot on the hill and Apparated to the beach. The beaches here were nothing like the beaches in Britain; here the sand was white, finely grained, and the water was as blue as the sky on a cloudless day. Harmony took her shoes off and bid Voldemort to do the same. The feeling of the warm sand sifting up in between her toes was irresistible. They walked a mile down the beach until there was no sign of another living being. It was just her, him, and paradise.

By the time they found a little cave—just big enough for the two of them to lie in—Voldemort’s Polyjuice potion was worn off and he was back to his handsome self again. As he was setting down his pack in the cave, Harmony leapt on his back, wrapping her arms around his neck. When he turned his head to look back at her, she kissed his cheek.

“Finally back to normal, are you?” he asked.

“What do you mean?” she giggled into his ear.

“I mean you were acting strange ever since we entered the town.”

“It’s nothing,” she lied. “It was just…strange being around all those Muggles again.”

“Oh? Is the Muggle-born losing touch with her roots?” he teased.

She wrapped her legs around his hips, piggyback style.

“Does it matter?” she purred. “It’s just you and me now.”

She hopped off his back.

“Don’t look,” she said.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m getting undressed,” she replied as she started undoing the back of her dress.

He laughed. “Like I haven’t seen you do that before—”

“Just keep looking the other way.”

Once she was wearing nothing but her bikini, she took off running in the direction of the water. At the pounding of her footsteps in the sand, Voldemort turned around to watch her go. Harmony looked over her shoulder and laughed, curling a finger at him, beckoning him to join. Without hesitation, he started stripping all the way down to his boxer briefs. Harmony squealed with laughter when he came chasing after her.

They raced into the ocean, warm as bathwater, and splashed against the surf. Voldemort captured her into his arms and fell, dunking her into the water with him. They swam out to where the waves gently rolled like glassy blue hills, and while holding on to each other, they floated with the swells sharing wet, salty kisses.

The warmth of the sun was rejuvenating, bringing life back into their bones, but it wasn’t long before Voldemort’s marble-white skin started to radiate a pinkish hue, and Harmony bid him to join her back in their cave where she massaged sunscreen onto his body. Voldemort returned the favor, remarking how beautiful she looked with her flaming cheeks and wild hair.  

With sunblock on, they were ready to soak up more sunshine and stretched out in the sand side-by-side. Her mind drifted off as she listened to the constant roar of the waves with Voldemort’s heavy breathing beside her. Lying on his stomach, face toward her, he never stopped his gaze from roving down her revealing body glistening in the sun from sweat and sunscreen. In return, Harmony allowed herself the luxury of admiring his finely-toned torso, from his arms to his chest and abs. Beautiful. Wherever she touched him, the muscles hardened under her fingertips. Every now and then, they exchanged a passion-filled kiss or two before lying back in the hot sand.

Much too early, the sun started to set with dark purple-grey clouds rolling in on the periphery. Within a minute they had a pit built with a fire burning pleasantly within. A wind was blowing in off the water and Voldemort and Harmony cuddled together under his cloak. They pulled out the meats and vegetables bought earlier at the market and stuck them on skewers to hold into the flames. While looking up at the stars, Harmony suggested they play a new game: Truth or Dare. The suggestion brought a smirk to Voldemort’s lips.

“Alright. I’m in.”

She asked first.

“Dare,” he answered.

“I dare you to kiss me.”

“Starting off easy, I see,” he laughed, leaning in.

They kissed so long that she had to remind him they were still playing a game. He asked next. She said Truth. He asked if there was ever another man before him. When she told him to clarify, he said in regard to being “intimate.”

“Almost,” she said, thinking of Viktor Krum. But then she thought of Ron, of the feelings that weren’t yet in the open but most certainly there. Could there have ever been anything between them?

“So you were a virgin before we were together?” he asked.

“If you mean you were the first man I made love to? Yes, you were.”

A satisfied smile spread across his lips. “Somehow I’m not surprised.”

“What do you mean?” she asked with feign offence.

There was a twinkle in his eye when he looked off into the distance. “I remember the day I met you at Riddle mansion. I saw a terrified, young schoolgirl uncertain of herself. Of me. You seemed like someone who would have rather buried her nose in a dusty old tome rather than fool around with handsome young men.”

“Alright, you cheeky dog,” Harmony teased, giving him a playful shove. “Truth or Dare.”

“Truth.”

“How many women have _you_ had before me?”

He laughed. “I should have seen that coming.”

“Yes, you should have.”

He looked at her for a long time before saying, “Just one.”

Harmony narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously. “Yeah, right.”

“It’s true.”

“You? Just one other woman?”

“You’re surprised. Why?”

“I pictured you as the kind of man who satisfied his… _primal_ _urges_ whenever he wanted with whoever he wanted.”

“I didn’t want to run the risk of emotional complications. You remember Bellatrix Lestrange. I have such a powerful effect on women—“

“Oh, please,” Harmony snorted, trying to hide her smile.

“But you know there are other ways to satisfy my primal urges, as you call it.”

Harmony blushed but was overwhelmed with curiosity.

“Who was she? Tell me about her.”

He took a moment to recall the memory. “I was nineteen. Still a boy, really. She was a little older.”

“What did she look like?”

“Like my mother. Dark features. Small. Pretty.”

“Okay,” Harmony said slowly. “How did you two meet?”

“She was my cousin.”

Harmony nearly dropped her skewer in shock. “Erm…what?”

“A distant cousin, anyway. Daughter of some uncle several times removed. As you should know, purebloods like to keep it in the family.”

Harmony’s words stumbled over themselves as she composed herself.

“Y-yes, of course. I didn’t know you were close with any other pureblood relatives.”

“Her family is no more. They were convicted of murdering Muggles, and while she was sent to Azkaban, the rest of her family was executed.”

“Oh.” Harmony wished she could say that she was sorry but she wasn’t, not for Muggle murderers.

“It is not an intimate experience I like to relive,” he said, grimacing.

“Why not?”

“Well, it was—how should I say?—messy. Rushed. It was all so sudden that sometimes I wonder if it was merely a dream, a fantasy resulting out of my lust for her. If her family found out what we had done together, they would have forced us to marry, have children, carry on the pureblood name. Her parents weren’t very fond of my family, the Gaunt’s, but given my close relation to Salazar Slytherin, they would have considered me a good match for their daughter.”

“Do you ever think of how different your life would’ve been if you _had_ married your cousin?”

“I used to. But since I’ve met you, I’ve been thinking less about the past. It doesn’t feel as important now.”

“You mean, like the fact that I’m Muggle-born, and that I was a spy for Dumbledore, and how I refuse to kill for you…and that Harry Potter was my best friend?”

His blue eyes popped in surprise. “My, my, my. You certainly have a lot to get off your chest… But yes, including all that.”

“You _really_ don’t mind that I was Harry’s best friend?”

“I don’t mind,” he confirmed, then gave her a sly look. “Do you want to know why?”

“Yes.”

He brought his face close to hers. “Because you’re not with Potter right now. Are you?”

Harmony acknowledged the truth behind his words. She wasn’t with Harry. She was with Voldemort. She had _chosen_ Voldemort.

“What do you see in your future?” Harmony asked with a little hesitation.

“Is that a Truth or Dare question?”

“No,” she smiled. “Just a question.”

Voldemort looked out onto the expanse of ocean, taking in the black water and black sky. The horizon was indistinguishable between the two. Ominous clouds were encroaching ever closer to their little paradise. A strong wind rolled in smelling like salt and rain, and it made his black hair tickle the nape of his neck. When he turned back to her, there was a content smile on his lips.

“Whenever I think of my future, you are always in it,” he said and Harmony knew he was speaking the truth.

“Same,” she whispered, and they kissed. It was short and sweet, but it opened up the floodgates to more sweet, little kisses, and soon Harmony didn’t want to pull away. They dropped their dinner skewers and wrapped their arms around each other in a tight embrace. Kissing became full and passionate.

Voldemort laughed into her mouth.

“I adore it when you do that,” he moaned.

“Do what?” she panted against his lips.

“Make those little sounds in the back of your throat. So desperate and demanding. It drives me mad.”

“I can’t help it,” she said as she crawled into his lap, facing him.

They kissed again, and she surprised him when she pushed him back into the sand. They completely covered themselves with his cloak, blocking out any firelight, and they lay together in darkness. Using only touch, Harmony felt her way to the bottom of his shirt. Once finding it, she lifted, exposing his torso. Straddling him, she planted kiss after kiss, starting at the base of his neck and working her way down. By the time she reached his belly button, her hands were already undoing the front of his trousers.

Voldemort was breathing heavily. His long fingers wove into her windswept hair.

Harmony was just about to pull back the opening in his pants when they were comically interrupted by a hungry growl in Voldemort’s stomach. She lifted her head and tried to find his face in the darkness.

“Was that you?” she said with a laugh in her voice. “You poor thing! You must be starving.”

“Wait,” he groaned when she sat up and fixed his shirt. “Don’t stop.”

“Silly,” she teased, pushing the cloak off her. “There will be plenty of time for _that_ later.”

He gave a long, irritable groan, sounding like a child who was refused any desert. 

“Food first,” she said as she picked back up their skewers.

They ate their dinner of cooked meat and vegetables and Voldemort even helped himself to seconds. By the time they were done, the ominous clouds had finally reached them. A crack of thunder rumbled over the ocean, drowning out the roar of the waves. It started off as a distant pitter-patter of raindrops on water but within seconds it was a full torrential downpour on their piece of paradise.

With the fire doused, Harmony and Voldemort ran into the shelter of their little cave. It wasn’t any use. The damage had been done: they were already soaked to the skin. The protection their shelter provided only lasted for so long. The wind was their worst enemy as it lashed rain right into their cave, leaving nothing dry.

“Grab our stuff!” Harmony shouted over the roar of the storm. Once he had done so, she wrapped an arm around him and Apparated.

They ended up in a narrow alley between an inn and a grocery within the little coastal town they had been to earlier that day. Rushing inside the inn, they found a wedding party in full swing with people dancing, eating and drinking merrily. They booked a room from an older gentleman behind the front counter. While Voldemort took their things up to the room, Harmony stayed below to order drinks and it wasn’t long before she was pulled into the celebrations. When Voldemort came back down, he caught sight her in the middle of the dance floor with a group of woman—most likely the mothers, aunts, and sisters of the bride and groom.

Harmony waved to him just as he was helping himself to a pint of ale.

One of the women leaned into her ear and shouted over the music, “Is that your husband?”

Harmony only winked at her in reply.

It was already well into the night and most of the party-goers were tipsy from all of the free-flowing alcohol. After a few songs, Harmony burst out laughing when she looked around and saw a crowd of women around Voldemort, begging him to dance. He tried to refuse but it only made him look humble and more attractive, so they doubled their efforts. Maybe it was the ale, or maybe he was just in the mood for fun, because he eventually gave in to their requests. There was a cheer from the women as they dragged him onto the dance floor. The pinched look of embarrassment and sheepishness on his face made Harmony nearly double over with laugher. They twirled him, taking turns skipping around in his arms. The lights were dim but there was no mistaking the small smile making its way onto his lips. He was actually enjoying himself.

If he had been told months ago that one day he would be having fun with a bunch of Muggles at a Muggle wedding party, he would have said that was insanity. But look at him now. It made Harmony’s heart soar.

Throughout the night, the two of them danced their way over to each other. By then, the music was roaring and drunken friends and relatives were jumping about without control. But even though everything around them was a blur of dancing figures and lights, they only had eyes for each other. Bodies pressed close, foreheads touching, swaying back and forth. Harmony tilted her head up and their lips met eagerly. With the music thumping in their ears, they pulled an inch apart, just far enough to see into the other’s eyes. The same thought silently transpired between them.

Harmony grabbed his hand and pulled Voldemort off the dance floor. On their way upstairs, they were a tangle of arms and legs. By the time they reached their room, clothing was already coming off. Somehow they managed to open the door and slip inside. Voldemort pressed her up against the other side of the door, closing it. Mouths mashed together, frantic hands pulling at clasps and drawstrings, desperate to be rid of the barriers between their skin.

Harmony pushed herself off the door and guided Voldemort to the bed. He fell back on it shirtless, pants undone. She straddled him and he helped slip her dress up and over her head. The clothing was tossed on the floor, forgotten. With hooded eyes, Voldemort’s hands explored her thighs, gliding up to her bare hips and waist. She bent over to meet his lips and his hand moved up to stroke her breast. Wrapping an arm around her waist, he flipped her onto the bed so their roles were reversed. He used the freedom to drop his pants and kick them away. While he did so, Harmony slithered under the bedcovers. She took a moment to admire him in all of his naked glory before curling a finger at him to come join her.

Smirking, Voldemort crawled over and slid into bed with her.

After an hour of making passionate love to each other, they cooled down with another game of Truth or Dare. Too exhausted from their activities to choose more Dares, they just stuck with telling Truths. The questions started out harmless enough but as the sun began rising outside their window, Voldemort took her by surprise by turning to an altogether different subject.

He was quiet before speaking, and then said:

“Earlier, when we first arrived in town and took our Polyjuice potions, you acted strange. Cold and distant, like you didn’t even want to touch me. But when the potion wore off, you were back to normal.”

“And your question is?” Harmony asked in a strained voice, not looking at him.

“My question is ‘why?’” he said, propping up on an elbow to see her face. “Do you dislike Barty or something?”

 _Or something_ , Harmony thought bitterly. She was hesitant to give him an answer but decided to go along with the game and tell the truth.

“Barty gets on my nerves, is all,” she said. “He always has. Even back at Riddle Mansion.”

Voldemort shrugged one shoulder. “I can see where you’re coming from; Barty _is_ very spirited. He gets on everyone’s nerves now and then.”

Harmony wasn’t pleased with his reply and he must have seen that on her face.

“But it’s more than that, isn’t it?” he remarked. “The look on your face when you first saw me as Barty was blatant dislike, almost hate, and I’m curious what my most loyal follower could have done to receive such a negative reaction from his Lady.”

Harmony sighed.

“You know how he is,” she said. “Barty is often friendly with the ladies—to a fault—and…I am often at the center of his affections.”

Voldemort slowly sat up.

“What kind of affections?” he asked with an edge to his voice. “Surely, you mean he shows an _admiration_ for you as his Lady.”

Harmony snorted. “Admiration is a bit of an understatement. It’s too good a word for Barty Crouch Jr.”

“You mean he’s been…romantic toward you?”

Harmony cringed at the word “romantic.”

Voldemort looked at her out of the corner of his eyes. “You keep trying to avoid answering my question. Why? What has he done to you? What has he…?”

His words trailed off, and suddenly his face darkened.

“Has he hurt you?”

“No,” Harmony replied, not meeting his penetrating gaze.

Voldemort cupped her face in his hands, forcing her to look him in the eye.

“Has he tried to?” he continued.

She opened her mouth but nothing came out. After a moment, she finally answered with, “It wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle on my own.”

Voldemort’s piercing eyes stared her down, jaw set. He let her face go and jumped out of bed.

“What are you doing?” she asked as he slipped his pants back on.

“How long?” he asked, voice gruff.

“What?”

“How long has he been so called ‘ _affectionate’_ with you?”

“As long as he’s known me. It’s no big deal. Now stop getting dressed, for the love of Merlin.”

He was feeding an arm through an opening of his black shirt when he leaned in close to her face again.

“Has he forced himself on you?” he asked again more firmly.

She turned away. “I said it wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle.”

Voldemort hissed a curse word under his breath, making her flinch. She tuned in to his emotions and was overwhelmed with disbelief and uncertainty. But most of all: anger. _So much_ anger.

“You need to calm down,” she warned him.

Voldemort’s hand swept across the room, knocking the lamp off the table and sending them into complete darkness. The door to their room opened and Voldemort’s silhouette flew out of it.

“Wait!”

Harmony sprung off the bed, grabbing her things as she went. She followed him downstairs where he slapped their room key on the front counter. The wedding party was over save a few people passed out in a drunken stupor at the tables.

“Oh, you’re checking out early?” the innkeeper called, whose question was rudely ignored by the dark wizard.

The second Voldemort was out the door, she could feel him starting to Apparate, and if she hadn’t latched onto his arm at the last second, she would have been left behind. They whipped in and out of existence, landing on the outskirts of camp, and were overpowered by the colder, damper air. There was an electric charge in the atmosphere that threated a thunderstorm was on its way.

Once inside camp, Voldemort screamed out, “Barty Crouch Jr.! Where are you, you little shit!”

Heads jerked up at the loud outcry and many families shuffled their children into tents, out of sight and away from Voldemort’s violent mood.

“We shouldn’t do this here,” Harmony hissed but he ignored her.

One helpful follower pointed a quavering finger in the direction of a dingy little tent stuck between two caravans. As Voldemort stormed over to it, Barty emerged shirtless with a look of perplexity on his unshaven face. But the moment he saw his enraged Master running toward him, he tried to make a run for it. Voldemort swung a fist and it connected with Barty’s left cheek. The Death Eater collapsed into the dirt.

“Don’t do the Killing Curse here,” Harmony warned Voldemort.

“Oh, I’m not going to use the Killing Curse,” he said while circling his prey. “I’m going to strangle the life out of him with my bare hands.”

A young woman—too young, it seemed—emerged from Barty’s tent, fixing the front of her dress. Harmony watched her run away, then turned her livid gaze onto Barty.

The Death Eater pointed a trembling finger in the direction of the girl and said, “She’s old enough, I swear.”

Before he could say more, Voldemort’s boot surged into his belly. A cry of pain expelled past Barty’s lips.

“Do you know what the worst part about this is?” Voldemort growled down at his cowering Death Eater. “It’s _not_ that you—who I thought was my most loyal follower—have wronged me in the most appalling way possible. The worst part is how after all this time, for as long as you’ve known her, you’ve hunted and harassed this woman,” Voldemort pointed to Harmony, “even after she’d rejected you—even after you knew she was bestowed with the Serpentine charm and bound to me like a married woman.”

He kicked Barty again in the gut. Barty howled, clutching his middle. But that cry of pain turned into a faltering chuckle. Everyone watched him in bewilderment as he laughed and smiled with blood in his teeth. He turned those bottomless black eyes onto Harmony.

“You did it,” he choked out. “Merlin’s Beard, you _actually_ did it. You told him about us.”

“There was never an ‘us,’” Harmony spat at him.

“I’ve always known you were ambitious for the women,” Voldemort said with disgust. “But I never thought you would reach so high. I was blinded by your loyalty to me.”

Barty turned his bleary stare onto his Master and surly saw Death himself. He knew it was the end of the line. A lifetime of hedonism and debauchery and it inevitably led him here—cowering in the dirt, alone and surrounded by people who hated him. He gave his Master a look that made Voldemort catch his breath. When Barty spoke, his voice was surprisingly calm and full of malice:

“You will never know her like I do.”

Voldemort whipped out his wand and pointed.

The young man screamed. He screamed more and more and never stopped, not even to catch his breath. It made Harmony’s skin crawl but not in a way that was unpleasant. It gave her satisfaction to see him being the one who was distraught for once.

As if hearing her thoughts, Voldemort released the _Crucio_ and beckoned to Barty twitching on the ground.

“Help yourself,” he said, taking a step away to give her room.

After stealing the chance to catch his breath, Barty gasped, “She doesn’t have it in her. She’s too pure for all of this, too sweet…too soft. No matter how much you try to prepare her to take your place, she will never be the formidable leader you dream she’ll be.”

Harmony raised a hand to stop Voldemort from replying.

“He’s right,” she whispered without taking her wild eyes off the Death Eater at her feet. Voldemort’s head spun to her. “I’ll never be the formidable leader you want me to be; no matter how much you try to change me.”

“Harmony,” Voldemort whispered, sounding forlorn.

“But,” she added, “that doesn’t mean I won’t thoroughly enjoy this.”

With that, she raised her wand.

“No! Wait!” Barty cried, holding a hand up as though to protect himself from a physical blow.

With his next breath, Barty was screaming. Louder than before. It was like his body was on fire, incinerating him from the inside out. Harmony gave no thought to the followers watching on in fear. The Unforgivable Curse soared from her wand freely, fueled by the memories of everything Barty had ever done to harm her. From the moment they had met, when she was just a scared schoolgirl, all he saw in her was someone who could give him a “good time” whether she wanted to or not. All those dark moments he had forced himself on her, no matter how much she fought and screamed, her reaction only fed his lust for her. She remembered what he had said the other night by the waterfall; he had said that he loved her.

She didn’t want to know what kind of world it would be if it was run by Barty’s definition of love. _Voldemort_ knew more about love than _he_ did. All Barty cared about were his own desires while not giving thought to how his actions might hurt those around him.

Barty was wrong when he said Voldemort would never know her like he did. All Barty chose to see in her was that innocent bookworm from fourth year at Hogwarts. But in truth, she was so much more. And Voldemort could see that. He saw her strength and potential and thirst for knowledge and power. But he had also seen the real her—soft, loving, kind. And unlike Barty, Voldemort accepted all sides. Every wonderful, complicated bit of her.

 _That_ was love.

Harmony released her _Crucio_ and turned her back on Barty. She gave him a moment to catch his breath and stop whimpering.

When he was capable of speech, he gasped, “I’m…I’m still alive. You didn’t kill me.”

“Very observant, Barty,” she said between clenched teeth.

“Why?” he croaked.

She turned to face him.

“Because death is too good for you. Ending your life would make me happy for a moment. But I can do better than that.”

“W-what are you going to do to me?”

She observed him, taking in his panicked expression and trembling limbs. His usual smug smile and jaunty attitude was gone. She had scared it right out of him.

“If it were up to me,” Voldemort spoke up, “I would torture him for another hour, and once I became bored, I would kill him. But it isn’t up to me. This vengeance belongs to you, my Lady.”

Harmony considered a minute before stepping toward the pathetic heap of a man on the ground. She leaned over, hands on knees, so their faces were close and she had his full attention.

“I’m going to give you two choices, one of which is a quick death.”

“And the other?” Barty mumbled. Tears were gathering in his eyes.

“You make an Unbreakable Vow.”

His black eyes went wide, but he was fast to pull his arm out from under him and offer his hand.

“I’ll do it.”

“I haven’t told you what—“

“I don’t care,” he said in a trembling voice. “I’ll do it. Anything other than a quick death is a second chance in my book.”

Harmony clasped his right hand with hers and nodded to Voldemort, who came forward, wand raised. The moment she began speaking, a thread of fiery light expelled from the tip and wove around Harmony’s wrist first—circling about her hand and Barty’s—before wrapping around his own wrist.

“Barty Crouch Jr.,” she began. “You will vow to live your life no different as before, except for two stipulations: you must obey my every command until those commands are met. Without complaint. You must vow to be my slave until the day you die. A refusal to obey will lead to the breaking of the vow, and if the vow is broken, you will die. The other stipulation is this: for the rest of your life, you are forbidden to touch another woman. If you purposefully touch another woman, the vow is broken and you _will_ die. Will you accept my vow?”

Barty was staring at her like she had just given him the order to chop off his own genitals.

“Barty?”

He swallowed and closed his eyes.

“Will you accept my vow?”

“Yes,” he sighed in a voice that was hardly audible. “Y-yes. I accept.”

Voldemort removed his wand and the thread of light dissolved into their skin. The second it was gone, Barty whipped his hand away and put more distance between him and her.

“For my first command,” Harmony said, straightening up, “you will go find that young girl whom you no doubt coerced into your tent, and you will apologize to her. Tell her she deserves better than you. Assure her that you’ll never bother her again.”

There was only a slight hesitation before Barty crawled up from the dirt to a standing position, stooped over and submissive. He bowed his head to her and left.

Every pair of eyes surrounding them watched as he disappeared into the crowd between the tents and caravans. Scattered applause broke out among the people and steadily erupted into a passionate ovation; Voldemort clapped encouragingly along with them. It brought a smile to Harmony’s face. Apparently she wasn’t the only one who had been bothered by Barty’s foul behavior. Once the noise died down and people returned to their business, Voldemort came over to her.

“Why didn’t you tell me about Barty earlier?”

“I don’t know,” she sighed truthfully. “I think I felt that if I didn’t tell anyone, it wouldn’t seem like such a big deal, and that gave me the strength to put up with it.”

“You should never have to ‘put up’ with anything,” he assured, grasping her shoulders for comfort. “I wish you had told me sooner.”

“Me too,” she agreed. “That was really satisfying.”

“Now you see why I like to make sure the followers are given punishment when needed. Let bad behavior go on long enough only makes things worse.”

Harmony smirked at him. “You and I have a different definition of ‘bad behavior.’”

“True,” he laughed, glancing around the crowd. “The people were certainly pleased with your verdict. They must really love you.”

“I love you,” she blurted out without thinking. But then she considered the conclusion she came to while torturing Barty and realized that it was true. She _really_ did love this man.

He returned her gaze and stared—not impolitely, but more like he wanted a moment to take in what she had just said. When the silence went on for long enough, he cupped her cheek with his hand and then kissed her full on the lips.

The loving gesture made her smile and she realized just how big a step this was. For the first time ever, the word “love” didn’t make him cringe and hide. She had told him how she felt, and he embraced it. He didn’t say it back but that was okay. Baby steps. Maybe in time he will.

Their lips parted, but with eyes still closed, foreheads touching, Harmony whispered:

“There’s something I need to tell you. Let’s go somewhere alone—“

“My Lord! My Lady!”

A young Death Eater came running up to them, panting and red faced. He doubled over for breath, hands on knees, disguising it as a bow.

“What is it?” Voldemort asked impatiently, reluctant to end his and Harmony’s private moment. He kept a warm hand around her waist.

“The…the hostage,” the Death Eater gasped. “We’ve been working on him since the _Stupefy_ wore off. He’s starting to crack. When we heard that you and our Lady had arrived, Magnus sent me to fetch you so you wouldn’t miss anything.”

Voldemort and Harmony exchanged glances.

“Take us to the hostage,” Voldemort nodded to the Death Eater.

 


	45. Chapter 45

The Auror was being kept in a small, cramped tent on the edge of camp, away from others. Harmony and Voldemort ducked in through the entrance and were met with the sight of five Death Eaters surrounding a tied-up young man on the ground like vultures. By the look of their hostage, he had already endured several intense bouts of torture and beatings. One eye was swollen shut with the other bloodshot and weepy. Blood and sweat plastered his blond hair to his scalp. Busted lip, bruised body, ripped clothing. Harmony swallowed back a cry of empathy; the young Auror had fought his way here under a noble cause. She may love the Dark Lord Voldemort and sympathize with their followers but she knew that they were still the “bad guys” of the Wizarding World, bent on taking control.

The Auror’s eyes were downcast, chin to chest. Drops of bloody spittle dripped out of his mouth to his shirt. But when Harmony and Voldemort entered, they were announced and the Auror’s eyes shot up to them. Immediately he looked at Voldemort with fear and malice, but when his eyes drifted to Harmony they softened and he looked away again.

“What has he told you?” Voldemort asked his men.

“Nothing yet,” Mag said. His sleeves were rolled up and blood smeared his knuckles. “But it shouldn’t be long now. Isn’t that right, my little Auror friend? Are you ready to share with our glorious Dark Lord?”

Mag stepped closer to the young man who curled up into a little ball to protect himself. Mag snatched him by the collar, hauled him up to his knees, and then shoved his face down into the floor.

“Show some respect!” Mag shouted. “Bow before the Dark Lord!”

“Thank you, Magnus,” Voldemort sighed. “Now let him speak.”

Everyone turned their eyes to the Auror, waiting expectantly. The poor man was a bloody mass of trembling limbs. His swollen lips were open but no sound came out save for pitiful, broken sobs.

“How did you know about the pick-up location?” Voldemort prompted.

The Auror shuddered at the Dark Lord’s voice. He kept his gaze focused on the ground his nose was pressed into, but still he said nothing.

Mag kicked his boot into the man’s ribs, making Harmony flinch. The man grunted, falling onto his side.

“Speak when the Dark Lord says you may speak!”

A whimpering sound sputtered at Mag in reply. Mag pulled out his wand to jam it into his face threateningly, then hissed in his ear, “I can peel the flesh from your bones if that’ll help the words flow.”

Harmony gasped and turned away, knowing full well that Mag was serious and Voldemort wouldn’t stop him. But then she had an idea.

She grabbed Voldemort’s arm and said, “Let me talk to him.”

            “Go ahead, then.”

            “I mean alone.”

            “Why?”

            “Look at him.” She waved a hand over the Auror. “He’s terrified.”

            “That’s the point,” Voldemort said with a tremor of a laugh in his voice. “The terror will force the truth out of him.”

            “Not when he can hardly get a word out. He needs to calm down, and threatening him,” she shot a look at Mag, “isn’t going to help.”

            “Hm,” Voldemort grunted thoughtfully. “I’ll stay with you.”

            “No offence, darling,” she said, smiling a little, “but you don’t have the most calming presence. Trust me. If he speaks, I will tell you everything.”

            Voldemort sighed heavily through his nose but nodded in agreement.

            Harmony stepped up to Mag who was still crouched over the Auror like a vulture.

            “Stand down,” she said darkly to the Death Eater.

            He gave his prey a lingering, hungry look with his small black eyes before sheathing his wand and moving aside. One by one everybody filed out of the tent until it was only the two of them.

            Harmony slowly approached the pathetic heap of a man on the ground. Despite the most obvious threats now gone from the tent, the Auror still glanced at her warily. She knelt before him and pulled out her wand. He inhaled sharply, scrunching his eyes shut.

            “ _Vulnera Sanentur_ ,” Harmony whispered while slowly waving her wand over the worst of his injuries. The angry gashes sealed shut, stopping the flow of blood. To ensure maximum effect, she sustained the spell longer and soon the blood started clearing away. When finished, the Auror sighed in relief and gave her a thankful smile.

            “I know who you are,” he said with more strength in his voice, as though her healing had given him the energy he needed to speak up to her. “There were rumors that Harry Potter’s best friend was under the control of You-Know-Who but I hadn’t fully believed it until now.”

            “Those rumors are wrong,” she said confidently, folding to her knees beside him. “I’m not under Voldemort’s control. I’m here of my own free will.”

            The Auror snorted, “Sure you are,” but immediately shut his mouth. He drew his knees into his chest and shivered.

            Harmony leaned in and said softly, “Listen to me. I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking that this is it. That no matter what happens, no matter what you do or say, you’re a dead man. But let me assure you, if you tell me everything that you know about the Auror attacks yesterday, I _will_ get you out of here alive.”

            The Auror breathed sharply out his nose and she could see he needed more convincing.

            “I have a certain level of power here,” she continued. “People listen to what I have to say. They’ll listen if I tell them to let you go. Trust me.”

            “Why should I trust you? You’re a traitor to the Ministry of Magic, to the whole Wizarding World.”

            “The Ministry of Magic is in a dilapidated state at this point and you know it. Who is even Minister of Magic? I don’t know. The position has been passed around so often now I think hardly the Wizarding World knows. You can trust me because although I stand confidently at the Dark Lord’s side, I am still loyal to myself, and I am the only one standing between you and walking out of here alive.”

            He was silent for a moment and she wondered if he was thinking about how she had cleaned and healed the wounds the others had wreaked on him.

            “I’m not like the others,” she added gently. “Surely you must see that.”

            The Auror nodded. “Alright. I’ve got nothing to lose except my life and I knew I was a dead man the second I was brought into this camp. So why not tell you?”

            Harmony gave him a grateful smile.

            “Ever since we burned down the Dark Lord’s last headquarters, we have been looking for the new one. There were rumors that a massive following was gathering far out in the country, away from the eyes of other wizarding persons, and we knew that was where the Dark Lord was building his army for the next war to come. But Rufus Scrimgeour—who is Minister of Magic at the moment, in case you were wondering—stated that before we could try anything, we needed to know exactly where this new headquarters was located. We needed to be ready for the next battle, unlike we were for the Battle of Hogwarts. So we waited and kept our ears to the ground for any information. And…” a little smile formed at the corners of his broken, bloody lips, “…sooner than we thought, the right information did come.”

            Harmony was discomforted by that pleased look on his face. “What was the information?”

            “Do you recall how you helped escape who we thought was a harmless Dark Lord from Menkar Insane Asylum right before his scheduled execution?”

            She only stared at him, afraid of where this conversation was heading.

            The Auror shrugged in indifference. “Well, we fell into utter chaos. The Ministry of Magic was like a chicken running around with its head cut off. But there was one thing we did do: Harry Potter and his guard joined us at the Ministry and Rufus Scrimgeour allowed him to stay, to keep him safe. With them were two Muggles. A couple. The Grangers.”

            Harmony gasped in surprise. “My parents! My parents were with Harry?”

            “Indeed, they still are. Now that your identity was revealed, Potter and his guard retrieved them before they could have been kidnapped and used against you.”

            She took in this new information. Harry wanted to keep her parents safe. Could that mean he still cared about her, that he still thought of her as his friend despite all that she had done?

            “What do my parents have to do with this?” she asked nervously.

            “Why, you should know the answer to that,” he said with a smug smile. When she didn’t say anything he went on, “Perhaps you remember sending dear old mum and dad a message. By Patronus?”

            Harmony’s blood ran cold. The realization must have shown on her face because the Auror’s smile widened, but not without a flinch, as though even that small movement hurt. She did remember sending that message, that night she and Voldemort had their huge argument and she had gone off to party with the followers. She had felt so lonely that night, and wanting to connect with _someone_ , she had sent a Patronus to her parents. Her snake Patronus had flown from her wand and darted off into the forest toward its intended recipient.

How could she have been so thoughtless?

“The Patronus came straight to us at the Ministry where your parents were,” the Auror went on with glee in his voice at seeing her obvious distress. “Knowing the message came from you, and knowing you were with the Dark Lord, we went to work right away to find where in the world the Patronus came from. It wasn’t difficult, really. All we had to do was follow the trail of stories, both Muggle and Wizard alike, about the strange snake light flying across the sky. A team of detectives traveled from town to town, each one coming closer and closer, until finally they followed the stories straight…to… _here_.”

Harmony frowned, not sure whether she had heard right. “Here? You mean—you _don’t_ mean the Ministry already knows the location of this camp, Voldemort’s new headquarters.”

The Auror grinned and gave one curt nod.

Harmony jumped to her feet. “You’re lying. The Ministry couldn’t possibly know. It doesn’t make any sense! Why would you organize that whole undercover situation, pretending to be new followers wanting to join, if you already knew the location of the camp? Wasn’t that the entire point to going undercover? To have us unknowingly lead you there ourselves?”

He shook his head. “Don’t you remember what I told you about Scrimgeour? He vowed that the next time we battled with the Dark Lord, we would be ready and better prepared. So against some of the more anxious Aurors’ better judgement, we researched how you lot were recruiting followers and we just slipped our people right in. Why, you ask? To learn more about this camp. Me and my fellow Aurors weren’t just undercover Death Eaters, we were spies for the Ministry, assigned with finding out more about this place. How big it was, how many people there were, what were your strengths and weaknesses. Essentially, we were tasked with figuring out how to destroy this camp as quickly and efficiently as possible, along with taking the Dark Lord dead or alive.”

Harmony stood over him with her arms crossed. She wasn’t sure she wanted to ask her next question. “And what is going to happen when the Ministry doesn’t receive intel from you?”

“Obviously they will know we have been compromised. They already foresaw the risks of one of us being taken alive and interrogated. The Ministry of Magic figured that once you discovered how they already knew about the location of the camp, the Dark Lord would set to work immediately with his army and try to escape.”

“Escape?” Harmony said. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, escape the camp. Before the Ministry arrives.”

The air caught in her throat. “W-what?”

The Auror laughed as well as a half-dead man could laugh with droplets of blood flying from his mouth. “That’s right, Miss Hermione Granger. The second the Ministry discovered that we had been compromised, they sent out their own army. It takes a while to gather so many witches and wizards, though, so I’d say you and your precious Dark Lord have about, oh, forty-five minutes before their arrival.”

Harmony gaped down at him, frozen to the ground in horror and disbelief.

“You can thank me now,” the Auror said with that smug grin on his. “I’ve just given you a forty-five-minute head start.”

A spark went off in her head and suddenly she could move again. She ran so fast out of the tent with her legs pumping like they had a mind of their own.

Voldemort was standing outside surrounded by his Death Eaters, talking quietly amongst themselves. When they heard Harmony sprinting toward them, the Death Eaters parted like a sea, and she ran right up to Voldemort.

Somehow through the adrenaline coursing through her veins, she was able to get her mouth working well enough to say, “They’re coming. The Ministry.”

Voldemort’s blue eyes narrowed down at her. He stepped so close they were nearly nose to nose.

“What?” he hissed, his breath warm on her face. “What did that man tell you?”

“Exactly what I am telling you,” Harmony said with her hands balled into fists. They were wasting time! It could already be too late!

She told him what the Auror had told her, about the attempted infiltration merely being the Ministry’s way to know more about the camp, about how the Ministry already knew about its location.

“How?” Voldemort said in anger and confusion. His voice quivered like it was ready to give way into an infuriated scream.

Harmony shook her head, damning the tears that wanted to spring into her eyes.

“It’s my fault,” she said through her teeth. “I sent a Patronus to my parents and they followed it back to here. It’s stupid. Stupid!”

“You—you _what_?” Voldemort rose his eyebrows, leaning his face in closer to hers.

“You heard me!” she said, meeting every gaze of the Death Eaters around them and sensing their disappointment in her. It didn’t matter! “We don’t have time to argue. We have less than an hour before they’ll be here. We have to do something!”

Voldemort blinked, turning away. “You’re right. This day was coming sooner or later. Preferably later but we haven’t been training our followers for nothing, now have we?”

In a blink of an eye, Voldemort was in leader mode. He barked orders at each of his Death Eaters, sending them to different parts of the camp with individual tasks, and threatened those who didn’t move fast enough. They jumped into action like their feet had been set on fire.

“Come with me,” he said, taking her hand.

He guided her to the main tent on top of the hill overlooking camp. At its peak, he faced out and pointed his wand into the air. A sparkling light shot from the tip, flew high above their heads, and exploded like a firework. The busy rabble of the followers came to a silent standstill as every face turned in their direction. Now Voldemort pointed his wand at his slender, pale neck.

“ _Sonorus_ ,” he muttered. His next words came out amplified into a booming voice that echoed among the hundreds of tents. “Listen all! The day has finally come for your loyalty to your Dark Lord and Lady to be tested. In less than an hour the Ministry will be here to murder you all. They oppose me and they oppose anyone who stands with me. Will you stand there and let them kill our women and children or will you fight!?”

This was followed by a roar of approval with fists flying into the air. Already, people started running around, setting to work.

“You know why you are here,” Voldemort went on, the strength in his voice fueled by their passion. “You are here because, like me, you want to see a change in the Wizarding World. Like me, you know the time has come for a new minister to stand in the Ministry of Magic!”

Another roar of approval. Harmony could actually feel the vibrations of their conjoined voices trembling the earth at her feet. Voldemort went on ordering his people to report to his most trusted Death Eaters at their nearest recreational tent. Everyone had a job to do. Some were to gather together the children and supplies; another was to assemble the fighters into their respective battalions like a proper army. By the time he was finished addressing them, everybody was moving every which way calmly but determined. It was ordered chaos, like they already knew exactly what they needed to do. It amazed Harmony.

“When all of our fighters are assembled, my Death Eaters must report back to me here,” Voldemort said to Harmony with his voice back to a normal volume. “We may be able to make this mess into an opportunity, though I’m not sure yet. We must discuss it with the group, so don’t wander too far—now what the gargoyles balls does that woman think she’s doing?”

Harmony followed his line of vision to a familiar dark-haired woman striding up the hill toward them. She recognized her as the woman who had blatantly insulted Voldemort by ramming into his shoulder and who Voldemort had ordered Harmony to cast a _Cruciatus_ on. She had thankfully refused to do so as not much later the woman had saved Harmony from an embarrassing situation at the party in the recreational tent with that vile Pavos. What was the woman’s name again? Lyra?

“My Lady,” Lyra said when she was before them. She fell into a deep bow before Harmony, and then slowly turned to Voldemort. “And…my Lord.”

She said “my Lord” like it made a bitter taste in her mouth, but Harmony was grateful. She didn’t want another repeat of that incident a couple days ago. The last thing they needed right now was for Voldemort to throw a temper tantrum due to one follower’s insubordination.

Voldemort didn’t nod to Lyra, just stared her down with those icy eyes of his like he wanted nothing better to do than pierce her flesh with them.

“What is it?” Harmony asked quickly.

“I have a request to make, if you would be so kind,” she replied.

“Well, let’s hear it,” Voldemort snapped. “We don’t have all day.”

Lyra’s jaw tightened but she kept her gaze focused on Harmony. “There are some of us who would like to personally guard our Lady ourselves. No matter what happens with the Ministry, we would stand by your side and protect you from whatever they throw at us.”

“And what gives you the privilege to do so?” Voldemort asked venomously.

Without one ounce of hesitation or fear, Lyra replied, “We would give our lives for her. It wouldn’t be a privilege. It would be an honor.”

Voldemort raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised but impressed.

Harmony thought of which people Lyra was speaking of. Those who would give their lives for her? She must be talking about the followers within the camp who were loyal to her and _only_ her. The mother of the little Seer girl, Aislin, had mentioned such people. Harmony had been afraid that if Voldemort knew about them, he would be infuriated, but when she looked at Voldemort now he seemed intrigued by the idea of followers being so loyal to her that they would give their lives for her safety.

“I would be honored to have your protection,” Harmony said to Lyra with a grateful smile.

Voldemort nodded slowly in agreement. “Should we be separated at any moment I would feel better knowing someone was watching your back.”

Lyra bowed to Voldemort and this time her expression was sincere. “Thank you, my Lord, my Lady. I will go assemble all of them now.”

She hurried back down the hill, disappearing into the chaotic crowd of followers.

“Well, isn’t that interesting?” Voldemort murmured thoughtfully.

“What?” Harmony asked.

He turned to her with a pleased smile on his lips. “The Death Eaters are taking quite a liking to you.”

“Does that please you?”

“Indeed,” he said with a smile, but it faltered into a grimace. “Hopefully they are not all like that dreadful, defiant woman.”

“Relax,” Harmony murmured before going up and kissing his on the cheek. “It’ll be fine.”

She left a moment to check on the preparations, particularly involving the children. All of those who were too young to fight were rounded together into one tent with several witches clucking over them like mother hens. Harmony caught sight of Aislin and her mother in the group and she sighed with relief. It comforted her knowing the little Seer was going to escape the camp safely before the battle began. The plan was to take them deep into the forest to wait out the carnage and reemerge once it was all over. They would be left at the mercy of the victor, but Harmony didn’t want to think about that. She needed to have faith in Voldemort and their followers. Every was going to be okay. They had an army, after all.

She was just about to leave the children’s tent when she caught a closer look at Aislin’s face and it made her stop. Daunting horror was writ all over the girl’s little, pale face. Her mother clung to her, shaking from head to toe. Harmony approached them and they flinched away.

“What’s wrong?” Harmony asked gently, unnerved by the tears gathering in both their eyes. “Did…did you see another vision, Aislin?”

The little girl—her black hair a mess, blue eyes wide—muttered under her breath into her mother’s cloak.

“What’s that?” Harmony asked, bending to a knee before her. “It’s alright, dear. You can tell me. What did you see?”

Aislin didn’t say anything for a while, only stared at nothing with tears streaming down her cheeks. Harmony was about to ask the girl again when her big blue eyes suddenly flickered up, meeting her gaze with a precision that revealed a hidden intelligence within that was frightening to see in a child’s eyes.

Aislin asked in her sweet little voice, “ _Why does everyone have to die_?”

Harmony reeled back in horror. “W-what are you talking about? Is that what you saw in a vision?”

“My Lady!” a voice shouted behind her at the entrance to the tent. Harmony spun around to see it was one of her handmaidens. “My Lord is waiting for you at the main tent!”

“Just a moment. I—“

“He says it’s urgent!”

Harmony bit her bottom lip, and she gave the horror-struck mother and daughter one last glance before twirling around and running out of the tent. Outside, people jostled her about while running to and fro. All protocol was thrown out the window; there was only one thing on people’s mind right now and that was survival. Harmony, herself, ran like a woman on fire with Aislin’s words hammering in her brain.

_Why does everyone have to die?_

The main tent was packed to the walls as everyone gathered around Voldemort at the War Table. Harmony pushed her way over to his side and he nodded to her in greeting.

“Good. Everyone’s here,” he said and then added in his commanding voice, “How much time do we have?”

“Fifteen to twenty minutes, my Lord,” replied Mag across the table from them. “Sources tell us they’re already passing through the nearest village.”

“How many of them?”

“A staggering amount, my Lord,” Mag said nervously with a bead of sweat trickling down his temple. “Possibly more than there was at the Battle of Hogwarts.”

A dark smile played at the corners of Voldemort’s lips.

“Excellent,” he muttered in an icy voice that send a shiver down Harmony’s spine.

“Excuse me,” she said, capturing everyone’s attention. “How is that ‘excellent?’”

“Because, my darling, it means the minister is sending his entire army here for the fight… leaving the Ministry of Magic completely unguarded.”

Harmony’s heart jumped to her throat, unsure of whether she had heard right.

“I knew we would be able to turn this to our advantage,” Voldemort said, and he held her chin in his slender fingers. “And it is all thanks to you. Your Patronus sent them straight to us, putting this whole ploy into motion. Sooner than I had anticipated but we must take opportunities as they come, mustn’t we?”

Harmony’s legs trembled. She feared she might faint right where she stood in front of everyone.

“For this plan to work, all of us need to leave within the next fifteen minutes,” Mag announced to the group. “We will leave camp the opposite way they are coming, to avoid any direct confrontation. They need to believe we are still here to give us time to infiltrate the Ministry.”

“Notify our informants at the Ministry,” Voldemort ordered. “Have them prepare for our arrival. I want a full take-over with as little effort as possible.”

“Yes, my Lord,” several Death Eaters said with a bow before leaving.

“There’ll still be a few left at the Ministry to keep an eye out for us,” Mag added gravely. “Rufus Scrimgeour is determined but he is no a fool.”

“Those left behind at the Ministry will stand little chance against us,” Voldemort said confidently, which was met with a chorus of agreement amongst his Death Eaters. “We will deal with them in the way we know best.”

There was a robust cheer throughout the tent and Harmony’s stomached flipped. As they continued discussing their plans to take over the Ministry of Magic and change history forever, all she could think about were those words coming out of the sweet little girl’s mouth:

_Why does everyone have to die?_

Everything was set into motion once again. All able-bodied duelers gathered at one end of camp, a massive hive of agitated hornets ready for action. With Voldemort’s permission, they started Apparating away to London where they would await his further instructions. The children were already gone into hiding deep within the forest, and soon camp was like a ghost town of empty tents and caravans.

Harmony didn’t wait around; the second everyone was dismissed from the main tent, she raced into the forest to retrieve the rest of her things from her and Voldemort’s tent. Her soaps, oils, books, clothes—everything got stuffed into her sack in a frenzy. She was just fastening her sack over her shoulder when Voldemort came flying through the entrance. His blue eyes were wide and vibrant. She hadn’t seen him this excited since before the Battle of Hogwarts when he had told her about the true meaning of her Serpentine charm. She was all too familiar with that look on his face; that anticipation—that _thirst_ —for power. His ultimate aspiration was finally coming to fruition: total domination over the Wizarding World.

He gathered her up in his arms and kissed her hard.

“This is it,” he said breathlessly. “This is the moment we have been working toward for so long.”

“It’s all ending,” Harmony whispered, tears gathering in her eyes.

“No,” he said quickly, taking her by the shoulders and giving her an encouraging little shake. “It is only the beginning. This is the start of new era, my darling. Can’t you feel it?”

She could only shake her head.

“You will. You’ll see,” he said, touching his forehead to hers. With a mischievous smile, he added, “And speaking of beginnings…”

He parted from her to rifle through a trunk beside their bed. Once he had retrieved what he wanted, he returned to her. Standing very close, he took her right hand and slipped a ring onto her finger. It was cold to the touch and a bit heavy but it made the breath catch in Harmony’s throat. Unlike rings commonly worn in her Muggle world, this ring had a large black gem embedded in the golden band. At first it was too big but within seconds the band seemed to shrink perfectly to her size.

“It was my mother’s,” Voldemort explained, watching her face carefully. “The dead man Dumbledore had it, but I retrieved it during the Battle of Hogwarts. I almost lost it again in the fire at Riddle mansion.”

Harmony’s eyes flickered up at him in realization. “This is what you had gone back into the fire for.”

He nodded and brushed a finger over the burns on his neck. “It was worth it.”

Harmony stared at the ring in wonder, wanting to cry now for an altogether different reason. “I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t need to say anything. Keep it for now, and when the battle is over and the Ministry is ours, you can give it back to me. Like a promise.”

“A promise?”

“Yes. That no matter what happens today, we’ll always find our way back to each other.”

 She smiled up at him. “That’s sweet.”

“Or…” he hesitated, placing a hand on the side of her face. “You could keep it forever, and make me a different promise.”

“What promise?” Harmony asked with a frown.

“That you’ll be my wife.”

The air caught in her throat when she gasped in shock. The entire room spun as her mind tried to register what he was saying to her.

His _wife_?

“You…you want to _marry_ me?” Harmony whispered, suddenly feeling lightheaded.

“Our body and souls have already been intertwined. In my mind we are already as bonded as two people can possibly be. But I want everyone to witness this bond. I want everyone to know we belong to each other and no one else. As husband and wife.”

A giddy laugh bubbled up in Harmony’s chest as she was bombarded with emotions, both his and hers combined. Desire, lust, disbelief, hope… She wasn’t sure where her emotions ended and his began. They were one person feeling everything all at once. And that was just how she wanted it to stay; she never wanted to feel any different.

Harmony clutched the ringed hand to her chest, happy tears flowing down her cheeks.

“I don’t want to give it back,” she said. “I want to keep it forever.”

Suddenly his mouth was on hers and it was unlike any kiss they had ever shared before. Now they had a complete and full understanding of each other. From now on, nothing in the world could possibly separate them. There was never one without the other. It was either both of them or nothing at all.

She felt his need for her and knew he would’ve taken her into bed then and there if it hadn’t been for the shout heard outside the tent:

“They’re here!”

Their lips reluctantly parted.

“The Aurors,” he said. “We have to go.”

“I wish we had more time to let this sink in,” Harmony whined, running her hands through his hair.

He kissed her again. “Once the Ministry is ours we’ll have all the time in the world.”

He took her hand and they ran outside to meet their followers waiting for them. Off to the side was a group of about forty to fifty witches and wizards who all bowed to Harmony when she approached. Dark-haired Lyra was at the lead of them.

“Your guard,” Lyra said, beckoning to the group behind her.

Harmony nodded in thanks, meeting the eyes of every individual.

All of these people, loyal to her and no one else. It was a strange and exhilarating feeling. This must’ve been how Harry Potter felt, having the confidence of so many people who were willing to fight for him. Usually, she would have felt overwhelmed with the responsibility but she was still on top of the world from Voldemort’s proposal. With a look over at him, she could see by the smile on his lips that he, too, was still thinking about the two of them.

A ground-shaking explosion jolted them from their thoughts. They all turned to face the opposite end of camp where flames and spells were already shooting up into the air. The battle was beginning and the Aurors were in for a rude awakening.

Voldemort shouted out for everyone to Apparate.

Harmony linked arms with her people. A second later she was sucked into the black hole as they all disappeared with a _snap!_


	46. Chapter 46

It was already dusk when the hordes of Death Eaters arrived in London. The setting sun was hidden behind dreary gray clouds that threatened to unleash a downpour. As if on cue, Harmony felt a raindrop on her forehead and so she quickly hid her hair under a black scarf. Although there were many of them, they kept to the shadows and alleys. It was funny, Harmony thought, how under the shroud of darkness London gave off a feeling similar to Knockturn Alley. It could have been due to the shady miscreants they passed or the rubbish littering their path. Depending on where you were, London was a completely different place at night.

As a single formidable group, they headed for one of the Ministry’s secret entrances. There were bound to be Aurors about, keeping a lookout, so everyone stayed on their guard. Harmony’s people kept close to her on all sides with Lyra in the lead; it seemed the young woman fancied herself as some kind of commander of Harmony’s loyalists. Lyra barked orders at the others, calling everyone by name. Harmony was impressed. She herself recognized many of her people from around camp but their names left her. What delighted her was seeing the students from her lessons protecting her from behind. So Barty didn’t entirely ruin her first impression with them; that was good. She wondered where Barty was now. She had lost track of him after he had made the Unbreakable Vow. She amused herself with the idea that he had gone mad being unable to touch a woman ever again and had decided to break the vow, bringing his miserable life to an end. An image of him lying dead back at camp was in her mind when she spotted the very man walking slightly behind her off to the left.

“Barty!” Harmony called out in surprise. “What are you doing here with my guard?”

Every inch of him was covered in clothing save for his face and mangy hair. He gave her a quick sideward glance before looking ahead again, like the very sight of her could break the vow and make him drop dead.

“Where else would I be? With the Dark Lord? Where he can get the chance to strangle me again in vengeance? Not bloody likely.”

“This group is here to protect me,” Harmony told him in a harsh tone. “If you don’t plan on doing the same then I suggest you set out toward the Ministry on your own.”

Barty was quiet a long time before saying, “You have spared my life more than once before. If I am to find mercy anywhere it will be at your side… My Lady.”

Harmony was taken aback by such kind words coming from Barty and it made her angry. She didn’t like feeling empathetic toward this cruel, pathetic man.

“Fine,” she said with growl. “You can stay with my group.”

“Much appreciated.”

“But you _better_ behave or you’ll make me regret showing you any mercy.”

“There’s no need for threats. You’ve already proven to me that you’re no longer that innocent, bookish girl from years ago. You’ve shown your thorns and I got pricked. I’ll behave.”

“Good man,” Harmony said and picked up the pace.

When they reached the mouth of an alley, Lyra held up her hand and the group came a silent stop behind her and Harmony.

“What is it?” Harmony asked, her eyes frantically scanning the street. It was empty save a homeless men and a group of friends walking out of a pub.

Lyra made a sharp whistle and a tall, skinny man appeared from the shadows on their right.

“This is our insider,” Lyra explained to Harmony while the man nodded to her. She turned to the man. “How’re things here?”

“A group of about thirty to forty Ministry workers were seen leaving this entrance ten minutes ago. They weren’t all Aurors but they all seemed to be heading in the same direction together.”

“Sounds like Rufus Scrimgeour is sending anyone who can hold a wand to take out our camp,” Lyra said.

“I hope all our people make it out safely before they arrive,” Harmony said worriedly, biting her bottom lip.

“I know you care about our well being—unlike the Dark Lord,” Lyra said, patting Harmony’s shoulder. “But we must stay focused on taking over the Ministry and giving our people another safe place to stay.”

Harmony closed her eyes. “Yes, you’re right. This is for the people.” She turned to their inside man. “Is it safe to go in now?”

“It’s pretty quiet in there,” he affirmed, “I don’t suppose you’ll have much trouble if a fight were to brew up, but all it takes is one to inform the rest of the Ministry workers that they’ve been tricked and ought to return as soon as possible.”

“Then let us hurry inside before anyone has a chance to,” Barty said, taking a step forward.

“Wait,” Harmony ordered, holding up a hand, and Barty froze in place.

“My Lady, we must hurry,” Lyra said impatiently. “The Dark Lord will have already taken another entrance and be waiting for us—“

“No, what we must be…is thorough.” Harmony nodded her head to the homeless man sitting on a tattered mattress across the street in another alley. “Does he check out?”

Their inside man said nothing.

“Wait here,” Harmony said before striding across the street. A burst of anxiety shot through her at being out in the open but all was still quiet when she returned to the shadows where the homeless man sat. Mud smeared his face, jacket, and trousers, but his stench was no worse than it already was with the rubbish bins lying about.

He kept his face hidden while the palm of his hand came out. “Spare some change, miss?”

“Seen any suspicious sorts walking about?” Harmony asked as she bent to one knee and eyed the man over.

“Miss?” he replied with a confused frown.

“ _Aparecium_ ,” she whispered and a stubby wand appeared at the man’s side, half hidden under a dirty blanket. The wand was instantly in the man’s hand.

“ _Expelli_ —!”

“ _Stupefy_ ,” Harmony counteracted point-blank and the man fell over, unconscious.

Barty and Lyra came running over at the commotion.

“Like I said, ‘we have to be thorough.’”

Barty pointed his wand at the unconscious wizard and hissed, “ _Avada Kedavra_.”

An emerald green flash filled the alley and the wizard laid there like before, only now he was no longer breathing.

Harmony reared back in shock. “Barty!”

He shrugged. “You said we have to be thorough. Your _Stupefy_ would have worn off eventually and he’d been free to inform other Ministry officials of our presence. He needed to be taken out for good.”

Harmony wanted to argue but she knew he was right. She jumped to her feet with a huff and growled through her teeth, “Let’s just get in there.”

They followed their inside man into a small grocery. It was closed for the night and all the lights were off save for the dim glow of the fridges that were full of food. Barty stole a bag of crisps and loudly munched on them. He offered Harmony some but she just gave him a dark look, so he shrugged and finished it off while they went on their way.

“In here,” their inside man said, beckoning to a large lift in the back of the grocery. “The Muggles who own this place simply use this to move in food deliveries from the loading docks. They’ve got no idea a whole Ministry rests below their feet.”

They were able to fit over fifteen people onto the lift. It would take one or two more trips to bring down the rest of them. It made Harmony nervous to break up the group for even a minute but there was no other choice.

Their insider closed the lift door and tapped a section of the wall with his wand. A secret door slid away, revealing dozens of buttons. He pressed the one with a big “A” on it and the lift shuddered violently, making the breath catch in Harmony’s throat.

And down they went.

The Ministry of Magic Atrium was as quiet and as cavernous as a cave. Its high-vaulted ceilings echoed with their footsteps. Papers and belongings were strewn about the black marble floors, proving to Harmony that the Ministry workers had left in a hurry. They really were alone in here. They were free to do whatever they liked. Who knows how long that will last.

"Barty," Harmony barked with quick authority. "Go find Voldemort and report back to me what his status is. I need to wait here to make sure all my people make it in safely."

"Yes, my Lady." He took off at a run toward the direction of the main lifts.

"Lyra, round everyone up. Make sure they're ready with their wands drawn."

"Are you expecting trouble soon, my Lady?"

"No. But in my experience 'trouble' happens especially when I least expect it."

"Yes, my Lady." And Lyra was off barking orders at the followers.

Harmony stepped off to the side on her own, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. She sought to focus her energy solely on Voldemort. He wasn't far away—she could feel his presence like a spark of light in the darkness—but he was much farther away than she liked. She had become used to having him close by; even during their time "apart" he had been disguised as Marek and never been far away at all. Even in their sleep, they were close. Perhaps it was because their souls were connected that they couldn’t bare being apart for very long.

Harmony chuckled lightly to herself. Or maybe she was just afraid he would get his bum into some trouble that she wouldn't be there to get him out of.

Either way, he was gone. And she didn't like it.

Harmony jumped when Lyra suddenly appeared by her side, staring at her intensely.

"Are you alright, my Lady?"

"Yes. I was trying to sense how our Dark Lord is feeling, just to assure me that he's okay."

"And?"

Harmony focused and there he was, that little spark of light—of yearning—in the darkness. She smiled.

"He's a little bundle of nerves, he is. Excited. Exhilarated. But anxious too."

"The Dark Lord, himself, is anxious?" Lyra said with a raised eyebrow, and then grumbled, "That instills very little confidence in me."

"I don't think it's the mission he's anxious about," Harmony clarified. "I believe he is anxious about being apart from me."

"Ah, well, isn't that sweet of him?" Lyra said sarcastically. "At least he cares about someone."

"You still don't like him, do you?"

"Let's just say that by the end of this, I'd rather see you sitting behind the Minster of Magic's desk and not him."

"I assure you, Lyra, that by the end of this he and I will be behind it together."

"Yes, my Lady." Lyra bowed her head respectfully and said no more about it.

A few more minutes went by before Barty showed up again, red-faced and panting.

"The Dark Lord's group found trouble going through the Department of Magical Games and Sports one level above us. No big deal, just a few straggling Aurors." He gave a manic grin. "We had quite a bit of fun with them before ending their pathetic little lives."

"You didn't keep them around for interrogation?"

Barty's face fell. "Well, what's the fun in that? They get all whiny and teary and bloody. Nah, that's Mag's pleasure and he was busy taking a search team to another Department, to weed out any more pathetic stragglers."

"Charming as always," Lyra muttered under her breath.

"Take us to the Dark Lord," Harmony ordered Barty.

They ran as a group to the main lifts, scattering the rubbish on the floor with their cloaks. They squeezed in as many as they could before the golden gate closed behind them. Barty pressed a button and up they went. When the gates opened again, they were met with a dozen wands pointed in their faces. Harmony nearly screamed until she recognized a few of them wearing their ornate Death Eater masks. Wands dropped with sighs of relief.

"Where is he?" Harmony asked the group.

The Death Eaters parted, revealing Voldemort standing at the entrance to the Department of Magical Games and Sports. As though he could sense her walking up behind him, he turned around to see her and smiled.

“Glad to see you have made it,” he said.

“I heard you ran into trouble.”

“As to be expected. They were most likely the last of the remaining Ministry officials here.”

“Tell me again what the plan is,” she said.

“Simple. Take command in the Minister’s office where we can have an eagle’s eye over the entire Ministry. Send our followers out to every Department, every nook and cranny, to assert our presence over the establishment. And finally, kill anyone who tries to get in and overthrow us.”

“Simple. Right,” Harmony muttered.

“True, this is unlike any other mission we have ever encountered. This time it may take us hours or even days to succeed. But once we do, the world will be a different place with a new ruler. We will bring our children back once it is safe; our followers will live and work here. Like a great big family operation. Together, we will finally be able to change the world into the way we want it. We will finally get what we have been fighting so long for.”

His final words were so full of excitement that his voice shook.

“You mean what you have been fighting for,” Harmony whispered.

“What was that?”

Harmony faltered before leaning in to say into his ear, “You mean _you_ will finally get what _you_ have been fighting so long for.”

For a moment she was afraid he was going to reprimand her being a killjoy but instead he wrapped an arm around her, chuckling softly.

“Oh my darling,” he purred, “you are still in denial about your abilities as a leader, aren’t you? Look around. These followers are here for you as much as they are for me. When will you see that this is no longer just about what I want anymore? We are nearing what will be complete control over the Wizarding World, and you are a part of it whether you like it or not.”

Harmony looked around at all of their followers staring right back at her, waiting for her and Voldemort’s command.

Voldemort grasped her warmly by the shoulders, brought his lips to her ear, and whispered, “You are too remarkable of a young woman to be doubting yourself in any way.”

Harmony swallowed back a swell of emotions as she felt touched by his kind words. Then she nodded once and he released her shoulders.

“What news have we of Magnus?” Voldemort asked his Death Eaters.

“None, my Lord,” replied masked Death Eater on his right. “We have yet to receive an update on his position.”

“That could be good or bad,” Voldemort said, though his brow furrowed in apprehension. He shook it off. “Our first order of business is to head to the Minister’s office. Let us go now and anticipate a word from Magnus when we get there.”

His Death Eaters immediately set off in battle formation down the corridor. Voldemort touched Harmony’s arm.

“Stick close to me,” he said.

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” she replied with a sly smile.

Lyra resumed her position on Harmony’s other side. Voldemort saw this and scowled but said nothing. Lyra’s job was still to protect Harmony at all costs so he had to allow her to remain close by.

Both his and her followers mingled into one army behind them as they went. They trailed at a close distance behind the battalion of Death Eaters blazing a trail down the corridor, wands drawn and pointing to every suspicious shadow they passed. Golden sconces illuminated their way, reflecting their light against the glossy marble floor. Picture frames lined the walls containing what Harmony assumed were supposed to be illustrious Aurors and other Ministry officials. But now every single one of the paintings were empty of their subjects, leaving behind mundane backdrops of scenery and shadow. No paper airplanes flew above their heads, passing along messages from Department to Department; some lay crumpled and forgotten on the floor as though everything stopped the second everyone was ordered to head to the camp.

They approached an intersection, one which led up a flight of stairs.

“That is where we need to go,” Voldemort said, pointing to the stairs. “The Minister’s office is the highest point in the Ministry, naturally.”

The second a Death Eater’s foot landed on the first step, a golden gate dropped from the ceiling, hitting the marble floor with a loud _clang!_ The Death Eater hadn’t seen the gate coming but the woman behind him had and she pushed him in an attempt keep the gate from landing right on top of him. Unfortunately, this merely caused the Death Eater to trip and he was regretfully unburdened of his head from his shoulders.

Harmony screamed and the last thing she saw before she shut her eyes was the Death Eater’s head bouncing against the stair steps on the other side of the gate.

Then the light from every sconce extinguished and they were cloaked in complete darkness.

A few surprised gasps echoed all around. Harmony reached out to grab the comforting firmness of Voldemort’s arm. Despite the sudden uneasiness of the situation, his voice remained calm when he spoke.

“It appears a few security measures were set before the Ministry officials’ departure. Quite irritating as we will have to take a detour now.”

“ _Quite_ … _irritating_?” Harmony sputtered at him through the darkness, her voice and body trembling. “One of your men was just beheaded before your very eyes and all you can be is _quite irritated_?”

“It was unfortunate,” Voldemort admitted, though not sounding the least bit upset. “But everyone knew the dangers of this mission going in. I suppose many more of us will be dead by the end of it.”

“Gargoyles!” Harmony hissed at him. “Don’t say that in front of the followers. Perhaps you could try being a bit more encouraging and optimistic.”

“No. That is your job. It is my job to be realistic.”

Harmony groaned. “Too right. Fine. _Lumos_.”

Her wand illuminated with a bright white light and everyone else’s wand followed suite until the entire intersection was lit up. She pushed her way through the crowd around the dead Death Eater where the woman who had tried to save him was on the floor by his body, sobbing. Harmony fought back a retch at the sight of all the blood; it was splattered everywhere. She kneeled beside the distraught woman and tried to comfort her with soothing words.

“Should we go left or right?” someone called out. Everyone looked each way but both corridors appeared exactly the same in the shadows.

“Go right,” a man replied and Harmony noticed it was her inside man from earlier. “It leads to the Department of Magical Transportation. Another staircase rests nearby.”

Everyone set off to the right, keeping in tighter groups this time under the light of their wands. Harmony kept a consoling arm around the weeping woman who struggled to move one foot in front of the other in her grief.

They approached an entrance with statues of a witch and wizard riding broomsticks on either side. The Department of Magical Transportation. It was completely dark inside there, too.

“There!” someone called out. “The staircase is just ahead!”

Harmony squinted through the dim light and sure enough, there it was, promising them an escape from the swallowing blackness. The first Death Eater to approach it went slow, first sticking a hand out over the threshold to test its reaction, but nothing happened. Then he placed a foot on the first step and there was a sharp _click_. He jumped back but no gate fell from the ceiling. This time they were assaulted with unimaginably loud screams piercing the darkness. Everyone doubled over with their hands over their ears. The screams were high-pitched and shrill; a sound that drilled right into the brain and rattled it non-stop.

“Where is that coming from?” Lyra tried to shout over the noise. Only Harmony was able to hear her since she was close by.

“It is the public access system I believe!” Harmony replied, pointing to the old speaker hanging on the wall. Speakers were everywhere so the Minister could deliver important messages at any time to any part of the Ministry.

“ _Silencio_!” said Voldemort with one hand over an ear and the other pointing his wand at the speaker. To no avail. He swore and shouted, “Another security measure! But the stairway is still open! Run! Hurry!”

Everyone rushed up the stairs with their hands still covering their ears.

“Gargoyles, it hurts!” Lyra screamed with tears streaming down her face.

“I know! Just keep going!” Harmony said.

At the top of the stairs was still darkness, screaming, and chaos. No one knew the right way to go; they were just doing what Voldemort ordered them to do. They were running. People stepped on cloak hems, tripped over each other, tripped over their own feet. They cut left and right at random. More gates fell from the ceiling, separating one or two more people from the group. Harmony didn’t see if the gates claimed more bloody heads. Frankly no one would have been able to tell the difference over the screams from the speakers and the real screams of pain.

It was absolute hell and all Harmony wanted was for it to end.

She imagined that she could hear Voldemort still trying to silence the screaming with his magic, and though it didn’t work, she clung to the sound of his voice as though it were the only thing keeping her from going insane from the chaos.

To some miracle, Harmony spotted light up ahead around a corner. It was warm and welcoming. Voldemort spurred the group on to go faster but he didn’t need to tell them again. Harmony’s ears hurt so bad from the screaming she imagined she could feel blood seeping down her earlobes. Some security measure. Almost worse than the gates, but it sure did its job well enough.

Death Eaters were first to round the corner and reach the light. Harmony and Lyra reached it soon after, but that was as far as they got. The Death Eaters in front had come to a complete stop; she had nearly run face-first into a wizard’s back. But through the blur of pain in her head, she looked up and couldn’t believe the sight that was before her.

They had reached an opening, a relief from the close-knit corridors. It was a landing with a stone rail overlooking the Ministry Atrium down below. What made the Death Eaters stop was the fact that they were no longer alone. A group of about twenty witches and wizards stood between them and the railing, every one of them with their wands drawn.

And Harmony thought it had been chaotic before; what followed made their little trek through the corridors seem like a walk in the park.

There was no merciful moment of hesitation from the witches and wizards, who were clearly on the Ministry’s side. Flashes of light flew from their wands the second they had come out on the landing. Harmony didn’t even notice how the screaming from the old speakers were gone. Now the real screaming began. They were like fish in a barrel, completely at the mercy of their attackers. The Death Eaters in front of Harmony went down in mere seconds and she was now at the lead, open for all to see.

“It’s her!” one of the Ministry fighters shouted. “Hermione Granger! The traitor!”

“Get her!”

Five spells shot at her at once. Luckily, she deflected them with a well-placed Shield Charm at the last second. But they kept coming, one after the other, in her direction. She had to get out of the way. She had to run. Where was Voldemort?

Behind her, spells and curses from her people shot at the attackers. She sprinted to the side to give them more space to fan out and form ranks. The twenty Ministry fighters were unprepared for the torrent of followers that spilled out of the corridor onto the landing. Many of her people fell to the ground, but more just kept coming. Like the Hydra: cut one down, two more appear. But _where was Voldemort?_

The Ministry attackers didn’t shoot at her so much now that they had more than double their numbers to fight against. However, one of them spotted her standing at the ready off to the side. He was a young man with a fierce scowl upon his face, and that scowl turned quite determined when he faced her with his wand. Harmony gave him a little bow of acknowledgment. The bow wasn’t returned. He shot _Stupefy_ ’s at her, again and again; so fast she hardly had time to deflect them. He was a talented young man. Or just angry. Emotions had a way of making a dueler faster. But also clumsier. His furious attacks soon left him winded and each spell cast came less frequent than the last.

“Barty!” Harmony shouted.

Barty, who was grinning from ear to ear, paused in his fighting to look at her.

She pointed to her young attacker. “Finish him off for me. I need to find Voldemort.”

Though it seemed impossible, Barty’s smile widened even more while he turned his wand onto him. A blast of fiery light shot from the tip and connected with the man’s chest, sending him flying back through the air. It put him over the railing and his screams could be heard over the din of fighting before suddenly cutting short as he landed hard on the Atrium floor down below.

Harmony cast her eyes around the landing, searching for Voldemort, though she didn’t have to search long. When the last of their followers came spilling out of the corridor, the Dark Lord appeared from behind them. They parted like the sea as he came leisurely strolling over to the Ministry fighters, black cloak billowing out behind him and wand in hand. The Ministry fighters nearly tripped over themselves in shock at the sight of him in all his glory.

With a mere flick of his wand, a blast of power flew from Voldemort to their attackers. Like the young man that had faced Harmony, most of them went soaring over the stone rail and landed with a bone-shattering _thump_ on the Atrium ground below. Those who were unlucky enough _not_ to go flying received an _Avada Kedavra_ to the face by the Dark Lord.

Everything went quiet on the landing after that, but only for a second. In the distance came new sounds. A hundred pairs of feet pounding the marble floor, battle cries and shouts of outrage, the buzz of countless spells cast, so many the entire room vibrated like a bee hive. Harmony and Voldemort exchanged glances, wondering where the sound was coming from. But then they looked to the direction of the Atrium. They all approached the rail and looked down below where they were met with a spectacular battle scene.

Hundreds of witches and wizards filled the Atrium. Many of whom Harmony recognized and many of whom she didn’t. From every corner, more of them came—by elevator, phone booth, Floo Network—and they all came with wands drawn, ready to fight.

“It appears the Ministry has returned from our camp,” Harmony said wryly, though her voice was quivering. There was no hiding the fact that the sight terrified her.

“It appears they have,” Voldemort replied. “And not a moment too soon. More of our followers are showing up just in time. Look, there is Mag.”

He pointed to a horde of Death Eaters and Aurors battling right below the landing and there was Mag, looking as happy as Barty had been to be doing what he did best: killing.

“It’s absolute anarchy,” Harmony whispered, shaking her head. A layer of dead bodies was already littering the marble floor.

“It’s a distraction, is what it is,” Voldemort said. “Just what we need to sneak up to the Minister’s office and take control.”

“That is if Rufus Scrimgeour hasn’t already returned to it.”

“If he has then he’s a dead man,” Voldemort said darkly. “He was always a dead man.”

“You’re going to murder the Minister of Magic?” Harmony asked.

“Of course. How else do you kill a beast? You cut off its head.” He laughed. “You almost seem surprised.”

“I suppose I’m not,” she replied with a little shrug. “Not really. I mean, it is _you_ , after all.”

“Indeed. Let us hurry on before anyone notices we’re up here.”

He beckoned to the group to continue on down the next corridor and they silently obeyed. Harmony waited a moment, taking in the carnage below her, before tearing her eyes away and following her people.

So many already dead. They were really in it now. There was no going back after this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's part one of The Attack On the Ministry. Part two will come along soon enough. I really want to start updating more often for all of you. I hope you enjoyed this little chapter. It's only a few more until the end of Whispers from the Past, so things are about to get really interesting. Please leave a review but if you have any questions please make sure you are signed in so I can message you back, because I love talking with all of you!


	47. Chapter 47

Harmony pushed her way back through the moving crowd until she was by Voldemort’s side again.

“We left some of our own dead back there,” she said sadly.

“And that’s where they must stay until this is all over,” Voldemort said. “We have more important matters to attend to right now.”

“When this is all over, if we’re still alive, I want us to have a large funeral for everyone who has given their lives for this.”

“What do you mean ‘if we’re still alive?’” Voldemort cast her a sideward glance. “We will survive this. We’ve come too far now.”

“I know.”

“I will do anything in my power to make sure we survive this.”

“I know, my dear.” Harmony caressed his back.

They find more stairs, passing Department after Department, and are mercifully given a reprieve from any fighting.

“Everyone must be in the Atrium,” Voldemort said as they began to climb the final flight of stairs to level one: the Minister of Magic’s office.

“No,” Harmony whispered. “Wait. Stop. Everyone stop!”

“What is it?” Voldemort asked as everyone came to a stand-still. “Why are you whispering?”

“Listen!” she said. So he did.

“Voices,” he answered and she gave a nod.

“Up there by the Minister’s office,” she said, pointing up the stairs.

“Damn,” Voldemort said. “And here I was thinking we were just going to stroll on in.”

“Don’t worry, my Lord,” Barty said over Harmony’s shoulder with his wand in the air. “We’ll just do what we do best. I’m up for a little more killing—”

“Don’t speak to me, Bartimus,” Voldemort hissed.

“Right. Sorry.” Barty quickly faded back into the crowd.

“Come on,” Harmony said, talking Voldemort’s hand. “Let’s check it out. Just the two of us.”

They tip-toed up the rest of the stairs, the voices growing louder and clearer.

Harmony got a glimpse of what was up there before whispering frantically, “Get down!”

They crouched on the top couple stairs and peered over to see.

There were about fifty of them, all clad in dark cloaks with wands drawn at their sides. They were all gathered in a semi-circle before the Minister’s office, facing a man speaking to them from the entrance. The group concealed who was speaking, though Harmony thought the voice was familiar.

“They must be Aurors,” Harmony said. “Only the best would be sent to protect the Minister’s office.”

“But where is the Minister?” Voldemort added, and Harmony noticed it then, too. Where was Rufus Scrimgeour?

The band of Aurors roared with approval and the two of them listened in.

“They come here to our Ministry and think they can just take it for themselves,” roared the man whom the Aurors gathered around. “These followers, these Death Eaters, may be large in numbers but they’re no better at fighting than Muggle children plucked from a farm by their _most benevolent_ Dark Lord.”

This was followed by boos and hisses.

“That’s right,” the man went on. “They may have quantity. But we have _quality_. You are the finest Aurors the British Ministry of Magic has to offer the Wizarding World, and you’re not going to let a bunch of foul Death Eaters take control of this world, are you?”

Another roar from the crowd.

“I’ve heard enough,” Voldemort said bitterly.

“Wait,” Harmony begged, placing a hand on his arm. They listened on.

“Any moment now, those killers are going to stroll up here thinking they were so clever diverting us to their headquarters while they snuck into the Ministry under the cloak of night like rats.”

Voldemort growled.

“Well, he’s not wrong,” Harmony admitted delicately.

“But they’re in for a rude awakening. This world will not tolerate the rule of a tyrant. The day the Dark Lord takes control of the Wizarding World will be the last day this world sees. Not only would he wage war against Muggle-borns and all of those who defend them, he would wage war against all Muggles, revealing our magical world to them all. There would be chaos, destruction, genocide, absolute anarchy. Are you prepared to let that happen?”

“NO!” shouted the Aurors as one.

“That’s it,” Voldemort growled, turning away.

“Wait,” Harmony said to no avail. He stormed down the stairs, hands balled into angry fists.

“Get ready to fight,” Voldemort told their followers. Silent cheers echoed among them.

“No,” Harmony implored him after she had chased him down the stairs. “We can’t take them all at once.”

“We have higher numbers,” Voldemort said, crossing his arms.

“But that man was right,” she reasoned. “They have better fighters, probably some of the best in the Wizarding World.”

“None better than me. I could take them all.”

“ _No_ ,” Harmony said again through her teeth. She pulled on his collar so he was forced to meet her eyes. “You need to focus on going straight into the Minister’s office. The rest of us will fight but we need to be smart about this.”

“What do you propose? And be quick about it. The last thing we need is for them to find us down here fussing about like a bunch of chickens with our heads cut off.”

“The Aurors are stronger together. We’d stand a better chance if we split them up. What we need are multiple diversions.”

Voldemort’s blue eyes narrowed as he thought. “We split up our followers into several groups, send them off into different corridors nearby, make a commotion, and the Aurors will be forced to send a few of their own men to deal with it.”

“They’ll likely keep most of them here at the Minister’s office,” Harmony said with a little smile. “I’ll let you handle them on your own.”

Voldemort frowned. “You’re not staying with me?”

“I’ll take a group from my own guard, Lyra will take the rest, and you will split up the rest of them as you see fit,” she explained.

He stared uneasily down at her.

“Alright?”

He sighed, then said, “Let’s make this quick. We meet back together at the Minister’s office in fifteen minutes.”

“I’m sure I can handle that,” she said with a smile before turning away to split her people up with Lyra. Barty refused to go very far from her side, so she felt obligated to have him on her team. By the end, there were five equally-sized groups. Voldemort sent two of his off to adjoining corridors and Harmony sent Lyra’s group off to do the same.

Harmony and Voldemort stood with their groups at the bottom of the stairs.

“Wait for it,” he whispered.

At first they only heard the gruff voice of the man giving the Aurors his pep-talk. Then there was an explosion that shook the floor, and everything fell silent.

“What the bloody hell was that?” the man roared—his voice was so familiar to Harmony. Shouts of outrage spread among the Aurors. Their diversion was beginning.

“There they go, just as planned,” Harmony said as they listened to orders being shouted for a team go investigate the explosion.

Then yet another explosion down a different corridor went off, closely followed by another. The Aurors went into a frenzy; their footsteps pounded the floor as they frantically scattered in all directions.

“That’s my cue,” Harmony said, giving Voldemort one last look before starting up the stairs.

“See you soon.”

With her loyal band of followers on her heels, Harmony hesitated on the top stair, peeking around the corner. A group of Aurors crowded the entrance to the Minister’s office, but the rest were mostly gone, having chased after the other three decoy groups. Harmony spun around to speak to her people.

“There’s a corridor just left of the entrance to the Minister’s office. Run straight for it, making as much commotion as you can. Hopefully we’ll be able to get more Aurors to follow and give the Dark Lord an easier task of commandeering the office. Okay? Ready?”

After a deep breath, Harmony sprinted out of the stairwell and charged for the corridor. She cast harmless bursts of light around the Aurors, making them yell out in shock. She gave no thought to whether her people were really behind her; all she focused on was getting out of the open and into the safe confinements of the corridor.

“Hermione Granger!” the gruff voice she had found so familiar shouted.

She glanced over to the owner of the voice. The Aurors in front of the Minister’s office parted and out stepped a very angry, very determined Mad-Eye Moody.

An undignified swear word shot out of Harmony’s mouth. She nearly tripped over her own feet trying to get away. The last thing she saw before entering the corridor was Mad-Eye Moody striding toward her like a furious bull, ready to destroy anything in his way to get to her.

“Keep an eye out, everyone!” Mad-Eye shouted. “Where Hermione Granger is, the Dark Lord is sure to be close by!”

Harmony was running for her life now. She dared not look over her shoulder in fear it might slow her down. Blasts of light illuminated the walls of the corridor, closely followed by screams or, worse, no sound at all. With each blast, the footsteps behind her became fewer and fewer. Mad-Eye Moody was picking off her followers one-by-one.

When all that was left was her footsteps and the awkward _kar-plunk_ of Moody’s irregular footsteps, Harmony blindly shot an _Expelliarmus_ over her shoulder. There was a burst of light as it made contact with something and Harmony held her breath.

“You’re going to have to do better than that, Miss Granger,” Mad-Eye Moody shouted down the corridor at her.

“Damn,” she whispered desperately.

There was an intersection up ahead. She turned left and gasped, coming to complete stop. Two Aurors were there, striding confidently toward her. She spun around and there were more blocking her way.

“Leave her to me,” Mad-Eye growled at his comrades. They showed obvious disappointment at that. Each of them looked like they wanted to take a bite out of her.

Harmony slowly turned around to face him, breathing heavily.

Moody—in his long trench coat, stringy hair, and metal boot—kept his wand on point. His magical eye, which usually swiveled in all directions, rested resolutely on her.

“What a pleasant surprise?” he said. “I knew you’d be here. You’re never far from your man, are you? But I had no idea I’d be lucky enough to run into you personally. It was a nice little trick. Surrounding us with your Death Eaters and sending our Aurors into a confused frenzy. I’ll suspect the Dark Lord is sitting in the Minister’s office as we speak. Unfortunate, but no matter. I found something better.”

He took a step toward her, closing the space between them. Harmony wanted to match the step back but the Aurors stayed where they were behind her.

“I’ve stopped many of your like before,” Mad-Eye said. “I’d never given them the time of day. They were just murderous Muggle-hating mongrels. But you? A brave young woman who had once been friends with Harry Potter? I think I’ll deal with you differently.”

His magical eye swiveled onto the wand in her hand.

“We’ll do this the noble way. Through dueling. What do you say?”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Harmony said quietly.

Mad-Eye burst out laughing. “Well, how kind of you! I have to admit you’ve got me shaking in my little boots!”

He laughed some more and an embarrassed blush crept into Harmony’s cheeks.

“No, but really,” he went on, all the humor gone from his voice, “of course you want to hurt me. You know I’d murder your master, the Dark Lord Voldemort, if I had the chance. I’m a threat to you and all you hold dear. I know how a Death Eater’s mind works.”

“I am not a Death Eater,” Harmony said firmly. “And he is not my master. Not anymore.”

“Oh really? And I’m sure the only reason you’re still with him now is as a spy for Dumbledore—Oh wait. Why is this conversation giving me déjà vu? I swear we’ve talked about this before… Ah, yes! At Shell cottage! Before you saved Voldemort from execution and helped him perform a takeover of the Ministry of Magic.”

“It’s more complicated than that,” Harmony whispered.

“Excuses! Every Death Eater has them,” Mad-Eye spat before pointing his wand once more at her. “Now raise your wand and duel me like a real witch.”

“How don’t I know your men won’t just come to your aid when things start to look bad for you?” Harmony asked, nodding her head to the Aurors behind her.

He stared at her a moment before beckoning back down the corridor where they came.

“Go back to the Minister’s office,” he said to them. “See if you can regroup the rest of the Aurors.”

“But Alastor,” one man started to say.

“Don’t question me, just do it,” Moody barked and the Aurors immediately followed orders. They gave Harmony nasty glares as they passed.

“Happy?” Mad-Eye asked her.

She nodded once, before whipping her wand up to her face in the dueler’s beginning stance. Moody did the same. Then they turned on their heels, took ten steps away, and spun back around.

“ _Confringo_!” Harmony cast first. The spell was flying from her wand before she had even finished turning.

Moody barely dodged it at the last second and gave her a look a pure awe.

“My, my,” he said, “you really have been the Dark Lord’s pet all this time. Looks like he’s shown you a thing or two. Good. Now I know what I’m truly up against.”

He cast a red spell as fast as a viper striking its prey. Harmony blocked it with a cry of “ _Protego_ ” and counteracted it with a fire spell. Moody was able to stop most of it at the last second but a lick of flame caught on his sleeve, leaving a long scorch mark. That distracted him for a good moment and Harmony moved to send another at him.

“ _Aqua Eructo_!” he growled. A jet of water flew through the air and hit Harmony in the chest like a blast from a fire hose. It knocked the wind right out of her and she fell to a knee trying to gasp in a breath. In her peripheral, she saw Moody wave his wand for another spell.

“ _Incendio_!” she cast and it collided with his charm in the air, making them explode with a flash of blue and red.

“Good,” he goaded her. “Very good.”

They cast spell after spell at each other, the lights going back and forth like a ping-pong ball across a table.

“You’re quite talented,” he said. Sweat was breaking out on his forehead. “I wonder what percentage of that is natural… or simply the Dark Lord’s doing.”

“Voldemort said every witch and wizard has potential. They need only be brave enough to attain it,” Harmony said as she blocked another spell. “You could say he showed me how to be brave.”

“Or how to become a power-hungry maniac.”

Harmony gritted her teeth and put a little more force into her next spell. When it collided, it made him falter back a step.

He chuckled humorlessly. “You know who you remind me of?”

“Who?” Harmony spat back.

“Bellatrix Lestrange.”

She gasped and cast an angry red spell at him. It hit his shoulder and he cried out.

“I am nothing like that woman was!”

“Aren’t you?” he said, rubbing his shoulder.

“No! You didn’t know her like I did. She was insane!”

“She was insane because she was in love with the Dark Lord. And he didn’t love her back, so it only made her love grow to obsession. She would have done anything for him. Even, say, help him take over the Ministry of Magic. Sound familiar?”

Harmony yelled with rage. “ _Crucio_!”

Moody screamed out, falling to his knees.

Harmony gasped in shock and cast the _Crucio_ off him. His screaming stopped but he was still panting heavily for breath. She couldn’t believe what she had just done. She had just put Moody, an old friend and Auror under an Unforgiveable Curse. What was the matter with her?

“Well, well,” Moody began. He looked awful there on his knees, sweaty, panting, and holding his wounded shoulder. “It seems the Dark Lord has taught you another one of his common traits… a quick temper.”

She stuttered, “I…I’m sorry—”

“No, you’re not. You just think you should be. But it’s alright. It’s over now.”

He looked over Harmony’s shoulder and gave a curt nod.

Arms suddenly came out from behind and wrapped around her like snakes, holding her arms at her sides. She screamed out in surprise.

Moody climbed back onto both feet unsteadily and walked over to her… _kar-plunk, kar-plunk, kar-plunk_ … until he was a foot away from her face.

“So much for a noble duel, eh?” Moody growled. “But what do you know of nobility? You’re just a Death Eater.”

Harmony began to forge together all the strength she had left to cast a _Cascadia_ and save herself. But before she could release it—

“ _Stupefy_!”

Red light filled Harmony’s vision and her entire body went solid.

“Cover her head,” Moody said to whoever was holding her. “We don’t want her to see where our little secret spot is.”

A mouth came to her ear. “I’m sorry, Hermione.”

It was a man; his voice deep, sad, and very familiar…

_Lupin_?

Harmony’s vision was suddenly shrouded in darkness as a black bag was slipped over her head. There was a feel of weightlessness as she was picked up and carried into Lupin’s arms. She couldn’t see or move but, luckily, she could still hear.

“Come on,” said Moody. “Let’s go before any more of her friends show up.”

A few steps, then…

“What are you doing, Moody?” asked Lupin. “Why are you picking _him_ up?”

“This here is Bartimus Crouch Jr.,” Moody explained, “and I’ll be damned if I let him get away again after what he has done. I recognized the scrawny little bastard the second I laid an eye on him. I only knocked him unconscious, and he’s in for some good fun when he wakes up, that’s for certain.”

“You’re not going to torture the lad, are you?” Lupin asked. Harmony could hear the cringe in his soft voice.

“What do _you_ think? I just want to know how he escaped getting that Dementor’s Kiss he was promised, that’s all.”

“Sure, Moody.” Lupin sounded unconvinced.

Off they went, going as fast as their heavy burdens would allow. They went around corner after corner and down stairwell after stairwell. Harmony tried desperately to pay attention to where they were.

_Department of Magical Transportation, no, no_ , Harmony thought. _Department of International Magical Cooperation, perhaps. No, that can’t be right._

At one point they were overwhelmed with the roar of fighting. They had to be near the Atrium. The battle was still raging.

“Don’t stop!” Moody roared over the din. “The second the Death Eaters know who you have, they’ll gang on you without a moment’s hesitation!”

“Noted!” Lupin replied. “Let’s go!”

They were running now. Lupin was panting for breath but he never slowed down. Eventually the sounds of fighting grew farther and farther away. The echo of the men’s footsteps reverberated close by and Harmony could tell they had returned to a corridor. It was colder down here; if she hadn’t been _Stupefied_ , goosebumps would have risen all over her body.

“Almost there,” Moody said ahead of them.

“Good,” Lupin groaned. “No offence, Hermione, but you’re getting heavy.”

_Well, how about you just drop me like a good little werewolf_ , Harmony mused. It couldn’t be much longer before her _Stupefy_ wore off.

“Here,” Moody said, and Harmony heard a door squeak open. “Quick. Hurry inside.”

Lupin jogged the rest of the way. The door squeaked closed behind him and they were immediately surrounded by commotion.

“’Bout time you two made it back—”

“We were about to go out and save your arses—”

“I think he means we were worried about you guys.”

“And I’m anxious to face some Death Eaters—”

“What the bloody hell is going on?”

“Who do you have in your arms?”

“Oh! Oh, is that… who I think it is?”

“Gargoyles. It’s her, isn’t it?”

_Oh no_ , Harmony thought. Her heart filled with dread and fell like a rock into her stomach. _Oh no, no, no, no_ …

Their voices. She recognized every single one.

“Come on, let’s see her.”

Harmony was set gently down onto the ground. Their footsteps approached even closer until she was surrounded on all sides. In one swift motion, the black bag over her head was removed. Her eyes took a moment to adjust to the light and then she saw…

She was looking right into the furious emerald green eyes of Harry Potter.


End file.
